


Steve's Therapist

by DarkInMe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bad Therapy, Blood, Can't think of more tags, Cap says bad language words, Choking, Completed, Dark Steve Rogers, Dark!Steve, Death Threats, Don't Like Don't Read, Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced Orgasm, I Tried, Light BDSM, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Post Infinity War, Rape, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Whips, my best, non endgame compliant, taser, tasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2019-11-23 16:40:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18154391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkInMe/pseuds/DarkInMe
Summary: PTSD Steve takes therapy on the suggestion by his friends and considering the bad thoughts he is having. But he doesn't take good with the therapy and it all takes a bad turn on the therapist aka you.(Bad summary)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very much into the Dark!Steve idea and the stories so here is my little contribution to it.

You stirred uncomfortably in your seat. The time was 7:30 pm. At any moment now Steve Rogers would come for his weekly appointment. While you were happy to help those, who required it especially in these times of chaos, you always felt anxious about having the therapy sessions with the Captain America and not just because he was a handsome superhuman avenger.  
  
He wasn't the sweet, courteous gentleman that you had heard him to be. The battle lost against Thanos had deeply affected him. The frustration and the anger were justified. But you were starting to worry that you weren't capable of helping him and that being around him wasn't safe anymore. You wished you could make it better for him. But therapy won't work for someone who wouldn't let it. You didn't even know why he came to you.  
  
Five minutes later the door to your office knocked. You weren't ready. Yet, you stood up and went to answer the door.  
  
Steve had the usual cold and empty expression that he wore in your therapy sessions. It always surprised you just how large and bulky that man is. You were like a tiny insect in front of him and he could swat you like one too.  
  
"Good evening, Steve. Come in," you greeted him with a fake but soft smile.  
  
Steve didn't say anything. He just stepped inside and headed straight towards the black leather chair, designated for the patients, which was kept near two big book shelves. It seemed like he just wanted to get it over with. You closed the door behind yourself and followed Steve to the sitting area.  
  
"Had a rough day?" You asked.  
  
He arched a brow at you as if you had said something utterly stupid.  
  
"When is it a good a day?" He replied.  
  
You cocked your head in agreement. You could feel his eyes fixed on you as you opened the bottle of wine kept on a small table beside your chair.  
  
"Maybe this can help?" You offered.  
  
Steve eyed the bottle of wine warily and then refused like he always did. You closed the bottle, opting not to drink any yourself if he won't. You finally sat down in your seat, crossed your legs, placed your notepad on your lap and faced him.  
  
"Is there anything else you like to drink? You always refuse the wine. Maybe I can get you what you want in the next session," you suggested.  
  
"I don't think I am here to get drunk, doctor. Besides alcohol does not work on me since after I took the serum. Thanks anyway," he said, plainly.  
  
"Oh, that’s too bad. It helps to calm the patients. Get them more open about themselves. Just a little bit of liquid courage," you told him.  
  
Steve sighed before he leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. His fingers crossed in front of him.  
  
"Well, I am as honest I can be, as I _want_ to be with you. Doesn't seem to work, does it?"   
  
He was agitated as usual, you noted. It hurt you a bit. Not being able to help a patient had negative effects on you as well.  
  
"Maybe you are not letting it work," you answered him.  
  
Steve scoffed at you. He passed you an icy glare.  
  
"So you think I am the problem?"  
  
You bit your lip. Tension stirred in your veins. You didn't want to offend him. You gave a him soft look.  
  
"If you think I am, then you can always look for other therapists. I personally can refer you to some of the best therapists all over America," you said, hoping he'd agree to that.  
  
But the ‘no’ came from his mouth quicker than you had expected it to. You resisted the urge to sigh. He was becoming more and more difficult to treat.  
  
Steve shook his head as he leaned back on his chair.  
  
"I have already told you so much. I cannot go through all of this all over again," Steve said, sternly.  
  
You nodded. "I understand, but therapy is supposed to help you. If you think I am not able to help you then what's the point of all this?"  
  
Steve let out a chuckle. He turned his head away from you and bit his index finger. He was holding an explosion inside of him and you could see it from his face. You hated that you weren't able to help him.  
  
"The point is that my colleagues, my friends and my fellow Avengers or what's left of them think that therapy can help me as it helps them. But honestly, I don't think anyone can help me," he blurted.  
  
You listened patiently even though you were already aware of what he said. Steve turned his face back to you. There was a hint of desperation and helplessness in his eyes. You almost pitied him.  
  
"And you know that the problem is not just what happened at Wakanda anymore. They think that it's just that. But you know it isn't." He was getting tense.  
  
You leaned forward in your seat.  
  
"It is heavily connected to what happened at Wakanda though, Steve. It is the root of the problem," you tried to make him understand.  
  
Steve grinned at you out of the blue. It made you uneasy no matter the fact that the grin was attached to this ungodly handsome man.  
  
"If it is like that then you certainly cannot help me. I am doomed!" he said and proceeded to laugh at himself.  
  
"Steve, it wasn't your fault, not in your control-"  
  
"Don't tell me that! I am sick of hearing that!" He stomped a booted foot on the floor beneath him as he spoke.  
  
You almost jumped from your seat. The milky skin on his face had gone red and his pretty blue irises were going darker too. You stole a quick glance at the wall clock. Much of the time was remaining to your disappointment. You knew it made you a bad therapist to think like that. But you tried your best.  
  
"Steve, you have to let me-"  
  
"Doctor, you need to let me tell you what the problem is. I already know what you have to say about Wakanda, about Thanos. But what do you have to say about when I say that I cannot stop thinking about these violent urges, about hurting people, innocent people," Steve said through gritted teeth.  
  
You took a deep breath in and tried to sound as sensitive and calm as you could.  
  
"Steve, you are not a psychopath, you are not evil. The frustration, the anger, the stress, the trauma, it’s all boiling up inside you. You need to let it out. That is where I come in. You can talk to me. I can suggest you so many ways to help you with that," you urged him.  
  
"Oh, please. Save it. I tried, it doesn't help. I am beyond that now. The more the days go by, the more I think about it, the more I want to actually do it. I cannot stop thinking about it."   
  
Steve shifted continuously in his seat. There was a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. You worried for him.  
  
"What about the other side of you that does not want you to do it?"  
  
He clicked his tongue and rubbed his hands together. You saw his Adam's apple bob up and down. Then he cleared his throat and clapped his hands.  
  
"Well, that is what I am trying to tell you." His voice came out low and hoarse. "The good part of me, the old me, might not want it. That was before. But I want it now. I think, I mean I know that it will make me feel good like nothing else will."  
  
You nodded your head, showing him that you understand him.  
  
"Your urge is just growing more and more. You will have to find another outlet for all that aggression inside you or else you might do something you will regret, Steve."  
  
Steve bellowed into the air. He slapped his hands onto his face and then ran his hands fingers through his moist dirty blonde hair. You became restless as well.  
  
"I don't think I care about regretting it anymore. I don't see the point of it. I have already lost everything I could," he told you.   
  
You could feel the heart break in his voice. You wanted to help. You licked your lips and refocused yourself on the therapy.  
  
"I see. Steve, let's talk about your thoughts. What do you think about? How far have your fantasies grown?"  
  
His pupils dilated. He straightened his back and fixed his eyes on you. The agitation seemed to have dulled in him. There was an unsettling calm in him. Steve was interested now.  
  
"It’s not just about random people anymore. Not just an ignorant, rude passer-by or a waiter who can't do his job properly. I have started becoming more specific with my urge," Steve started. One of his legs shook furiously as he went through his thoughts.  
  
"The _who_ has become more specific I assume," you added.  
  
"And the _what_ too," Steve said.  
  
"And does it bother you when you have those fantasies?"   
  
Steve shook his head slowly. His stared at the floor between you two.   
  
"At the beginning maybe, because I sometimes imagined people close to me. I cannot hurt them. I didn't feel good about that. I didn't want to hurt random people too. But then my fantasy became more focused on someone, someone I am not afraid to hurt," Steve explained.  
  
He locked his gaze on you. You could stare into the darkness behind his cold blue eyes. Your blood turned into ice at the horrifying yet foreseen realization. This had happened to you before. But you had never felt so afraid and vulnerable before.  
  
"And that someone is?" You asked, wanting him to put it into words himself.  
  
Steve's lips twitched for a moment and he averted his eyes from you. A slight sign of hesitation. You still had faith in the good man inside him. He straightened his back and hunched his shoulders. He looked at you again, boldly this time.  
  
" _You_ ," he answered with confidence.  
  
Chills went down your spine. But you kept your expression straight. You accepted the answer. The wrinkling of his forehead displayed the surprise he felt from your lack of reaction.  
  
"It is not uncommon for patients to want to attack their therapists. It's not the first time this has happened to me either," you informed him in a professional manner, hiding all signs of panic.  
  
Steve was amused by your calmness. He had expected more from you. He wanted more from you.  
  
"Yes, but it would be the first time that you'd be completely incapable of defending yourself from a patient. Calling for help would be completely useless too. No one will be able to save you from me," he said, more like threatened.  
  
Steve smirked at you.  
  
There was a dull ache at the back of your throat. Your whole body went stiff. You couldn't think of what to say or do next for a moment. Steve observed the paleness of your face and the evident fear in your eyes. Desperate for escape, you turned your head towards the wall clock that showed that your session was nearly over with him. But before you could open your mouth Steve interrupted you.  
  
"No. No looking at the clock. Our session isn't over until I say it is over," he imposed.  
  
You tried to argue him again, but he stopped you that time too.  
  
"Steve, just listen to me, please," you tried a third time and thankfully he let you speak. "Our sessions have outrun their capacity to help you. I am sorry but I can do nothing more for you than referring you to another, better psychiatrist who will definitely be able to make things better for you."  
  
Steve simply glared at you. He had no interest in your suggestion. He only let you make a petty attempt to make him leave so that you won't do that again.  
  
"Doctor (y/n), I have made it clear that I don't want any other therapists or psychiatrist and it would be better for you not to press me too much on that. I come here to talk to you, I pay you to talk and listen to me and you will do exactly that," he said, harshly.  
  
You could see that his anger was getting out of control and arguing with him any further would just result in him being more provoked to make his fantasies come true. Instead, you decided to do what you did. Talk to him. You forced yourself not to panic and settle down.  
  
"Okay, Steve. We will talk and we will find a solution. Let's start with your fantasies about hurting me. You said that it used to be random people, then the people who were close to you and then finally me. How did you choose me, Steve?" You put your therapist persona back on.  
  
Steve rubbed his hand on a thigh and gave it a thought as he scratched his chiselled chin.  
  
"That is a good question," he said. "Uh, I think you are a decent person. A fairly nice person with good intentions. But we didn't meet on a positive note. I didn't want to come here I was forced to. And I absolutely hate to hear you talk on and on about me, my stress, my anger, my fear as if you know anything about the world or what I have faced just because you got a PhD in psychiatry. That is bullshit. You are just a kid. You don't have the slightest clue of how it feels to carry the burden of billions of lives, of my friends on my shoulder and then just losing it all. The impact it has on me. You don't know. You barely even lost the people important to you! Still you keep blabbering on and in, saying dumb stuff, thinking that it'll help me. And all the while the only thing that I can think of is how do I get you to shut your fucking mouth and give you a piece of reality!" Steve growled.  
  
The sting to your pride as a therapist and as a person was battled by the fear caused by his outright confession of wanting to hurt you. You swallowed your pride and listened like a professional. Although your faith your ability to help had started to fade.  
  
"I-I see. I am acting as a stressor for you. Obviously, my therapy is failing to work on you. I am sorry for that, but-"  
  
"You're not only a stressor, but you have become an outlet for me. Thinking about hurting you has helped me with much of my held in frustration and aggression. You distract me. Thinking about hurting you feels good. It makes me calm," Steve explained with delight.  
  
It was the highest amount of positive emotion you had ever seen in him.  
  
"How does it make you feel good? The feeling of overpowering another life? Does it make you feel like you are back in control?"   
  
Steve nodded slowly as his eyes ran down the length of your body. You found yourself pulling down the hem of your dress instinctively.   
  
"Maybe," he answered. "Now I don't know if I should say this, but you are my therapist and I am supposed to tell you everything right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
 There was a sort of excitement that you could see in him by the way he began to smile. You had a bad feeling about what he was going to say to you.  
  
"It, uh, it sorts of gives me a sexual high. I jerk off to those thoughts about you," he confessed, fervently.  
  
Again, you wouldn't say that you didn't see it coming. Steve didn't disgust you. You could understand what was happening and why it was happening to him. But you knew that it was time for you two to not be in the same room anymore.   
 

Your nails dug into the leather of your chair as you thought of ways to get him to leave and go to another doctor. Being with you wouldn't do him any good.  
  
Steve observed the way you squirmed in your seat. You couldn't tell if he was disappointed or pleased with your reaction.  
  
"Isn't it most girls' wet dream to be fucked by me? Aren't you one of those girls, Doctor (y/n)?" His voice was soft yet cocky.  
  
You wondered how long it'd take for your anxiety and nervousness to take over you completely. It was getting harder to keep acting steady with each passing second. If things had been normal you would have been head over heels for the devilishly handsome super soldier. Unfortunately, a man like Steve wouldn't have even batted an interested eye at you had things been like they were before. But even with the whirlwind forming inside of you, you knew panicking is not going to help. You swallowed the knot forming in your throat and maintained a firm expression.  
  
"Would you rather I be the girl with the wet dream about you or the one without it?" Your voice came out thinner than your liking.  
  
Steve raised his brows at you. You had certainly intrigued him judging by the way his whole face glimmered at you. He leaned forward. Flicks of his hair fell beautifully over his forehead and eyes, yet somehow managed to make him appear more menacing.  
  
"It won't matter to me," he said, bluntly.  
  
"Either way I would only want to hurt you. If you had a wet dream then I'd make it a nightmare," he whispered, but you could still hear his words loud and clear.  
  
There was no hint of guilt or remorse in the way he talked about you. That was not a good thing at all. The great Captain had become comfortable with his unholy ideas. The situation had officially gone out of your hands. You could only wish that he wouldn't make his fantasies come true right then.  
  
You exhaled a large amount of air as you closed the notepad on your lap and placed it on the side table. You collected all the courage you had in yourself and decided to be firm with him.  
  
"Steve," you began, pressing your palms together in front of you. "We had good a session today. It was very informative and I got to have deeper insight of what was happening in your mind. I think it's more than enough for today. You should go home and give yourself some rest. It's getting late too."  
  
You waited for him to say something or do something. But Steve didn't do anything. Whatever you said had no effect on him. So, you stood up first. Steve stood up too. His height and built were gigantic compared to your own small self.  
  
"Sit back down," he ordered as he took a threatening step towards you.  
  
"I said sit back down!" He shouted at you when you didn't listen.  
  
Scared more than ever, you dropped back in your leather seat. Your breathing became laboured. You scrambled for words but nothing came out of your mouth. Your professional expertise was failing you.  
  
"After all these days of boring, fruitless talking, I am finally interested in sharing myself with you. And what kind of therapist would you be to not let your patient speak when they want to?" He asked as he treaded slowly towards you.  
  
You took a deep breath and gulped. You realized that you were trapped with him now. Maybe you could still try to talk yourself out of it. But it'd be foolish of you to think that you have any control over the situation anymore. Nonetheless, you played the part that he wanted you to play.  
  
"If you want to talk then I will listen for sure. J-just please take your seat, Steve," you said while pointing at the leather chair with a trembling hand.  
  
Steve grinned at your instability and shook his head with disapproval.  
  
"I'd rather stand," he told you and continued to step towards the desk area of your office. "But you will sit," he added.  
  
You shrunk into the chair and folded your hands over your chest. Your eyes had become wet without you noticing and you had to force back the tears.   
  
You took another deep breath before you asked, "So, what do you want to talk about?"  
  
Steve was examining the contents of your desk. Normally you'd be offended by such behaviour. He scanned through your drawers and with a flash you remembered that you had taser tucked away in one of the drawers. It was only for precaution and you never had to use ever since you bought it. If only you had thought about it earlier. Now you could only wish that Steve doesn't find it. It won't be good to have a taser in the hand of the man who gets off from the idea of torturing you.   
  
You thought he hadn't heard you but he had. He just took a few seconds to reply.  
  
"Me and you, of course," he answered.  
  
Even though it was your job to listen to people, you didn't want hear more about that. You cannot help a patient when you could hardly help yourself.  
  
"Will t-talking about that be therapeutic for you or do you just want to torment me?" You forced yourself to ask, knowing fully well the answer to that question.  
  
Steve paused his checking of your desk's drawers and have you an evil stare. If anyone else could see him right now with his scary eyes and treacherous grin, no one would say that this was man was once the gallant and gentle Captain America. Now he just had the title, but no resemblance to that name.  
  
"Tormenting you would be therapeutic," he said through the wide grin.  
  
"You think it will be, you hope it will be, but it won't be, I can assure you of that Steve. Once you go through with it things will only get worse. The regret, the remorse would be unbearable," you tried to make him see.  
  
You heard him chuckle from behind the desk. He was hidden from your view by it so you could only hear his voice now and see the tuft of his silky hair.  
  
"That is where you make a mistake, (y/n). I don't think I will feel any of that. I have thought a lot about it and I don't think I can feel any worse than I already do. Ah! Here it is!"   
  
Your eyes widened with fear when you saw him rise up with the taser in his hand.   
  
"I figured you'd have something like this here somewhere since it's not uncommon for patients to think like me."  
  
You cupped your mouth immediately, muffling the gasp. _Don't panic, don't panic,_ you told yourself. You eyed the door and calculated your chance of successfully running out of your office and then to your car before Steve catches up.  
  
"You won't even make it to the door," Steve said quickly as if he had read your mind.  
  
You snapped your head at him and watched him toss the taser in his hands playfully as he came towards you.  
  
"Steve," you squeaked," I am your therapist and I give you my word that it won't feel good!"  
  
"Not to you," he said before he switched the taser on to test it.  
  
The crackling electric sound sent bolts down your spine. Your thinking was dishevelled and your judgement clouded. You couldn't control the urge to run anymore. Without thinking you dashed for the door. You had barely made it across half of the room before his hand grabbed you by the middle of your body and tossed you back at your chair. You fell on the floor with a thud, your back hitting the chair. All of your balance was lost. The side table shook from the impact and the wine bottle fell near you, breaking into numerous shards.   
  
Before you could make another move, Steve was standing over you. His legs positioned at each side of your body. You were caged. Your heart ached and your stomach churned. Tears spilled from your eyes. Your hands shook as you raised them in defence.   
  
"I haven't even done anything yet," Steve said as he sank to his knees.   
  
You pressed your back against the chair to create as much distance as you cold between you two. Your eyes darted back and forth from the taser in his left hand and the muscled expanse of his chest that you were directly facing.   
  
"P-please Steve, you don't have to do this. You don't have to," you begged in a shaky voice.  
  
"Oh, but I have to (y/n)," Steve whispered as he brought his free hand near your face and caressed your cheek with it.  
  
You whimpered and pulled away from his touch even though you couldn't get far away. In response he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and forced you stay still beneath him. Your lips quivered as you tried to form words with them.  
  
"I-I am just your therapist, S-Steve. I-I haven't d-done anything bad. I don't deserve this," you tried to reason.  
  
His nails dug in the back of your neck, making you wince, as he brought himself closer to your face.   
  
"Why don't you understand that I don't care? Huh?"   
  
You stared at him, fearfully.  
  
"And you know what the best part is? No one cares. Not about you. No one gives a fuck in today's world. And I am Captain America. I will get out of this without consequences." Steve almost pressed his forehead to yours and continued," I will take what I want and then I'll go back to fighting and saving the world."  
  
You were stunned by his speech. It was blunt and left you feeling even more helpless than before. You tried not to break down as Steve stared directly into your eyes up close. There was a silence between you two in which only your heavy, laboured breathing could be heard. Your breasts heaved up and down almost brushing against his chest. The close proximity of you two suffocated you.   
  
His eyes shamelessly dropped down to your cleavage. The hand on your neck snaked over to your chest. You tensed up. A sob caught in your throat.  
  
"I was about to tell you what I do to you in my fantasies, but...," he started in a low-pitched voice as he cupped his hand around your breast.   
  
You could feel the warmth and sweat come off of it through the thin fabric of your blue dress.  
  
"...you kept interrupting me. So, now I think, I can show you instead, right?"   
  
He squeezed and you gasped. You made a laughable attempt to pull off his hand of you. His grip was like iron.  
  
"S-Steve, please don't. You are better than this. I know you are!"  
  
"You do? Then I guess I'll have to change that," he taunted.  
  
You suddenly felt the cold and sharp touch of the taser's pointy electrodes on the skin of your arm. You jerked your hand away from it. Steve laughed darkly at you. He pressed the taser at the base of your neck, letting the electrodes pinch through your skin. You wanted to get away but you couldn't. There was no space to move. The more your wriggled and squirmed the more he dug it in you.  
  
"Don't move," he ordered. "I won't hesitate to use this."  
  
You shook your head at him. Yet it was hard to keep yourself still when he resumed his assault on you. He dragged the taser down to your other breast and circled it around your already hardened nipple. You through your head back on the chair to avoid facing him. Your eyes brimmed with tears.   
  
Steve buried his face in the crook of your neck. Soft lips and a hot wet tongue bothered you at first but then came his teeth. His hand kneaded your breasts without holding back while he continued brushing the taser along your body. Your hushed cries had no meaning to him. You cursed your fate and your inability to fight him. There was no chance you could take on the super soldier.  
  
From the corner of your eye you caught a glimpse of the broken pieces of the wine bottle scattered just beside you. The liquid had seeped into the carpet beneath you had reminded you of it. A small flicker of hope lit in your heart. Maybe, just maybe you could use a stab him with one of the glass pieces. It might be enough to get him distracted while you make a run for your life. You slid your hand slowly through the wet carpet, careful of not making too much movement so as to not alert Steve. Him being busy nipping at your neck and chest made it easier for you to get one of the shards in your hand. Your heart throbbed harder than before, now with the added fear of getting caught and the harsh consequences that might follow.   
  
You thought about calculating your chance of successfully hurting him. You didn't have too much hope for it. But you couldn't just sit there and take it. Without thinking any further you swung piece of glass towards his thigh.   
  
It all happened too quickly. Steve detached himself from you. The shard was slapped away from your hand. The realization had barely registered in your mind when Steve pressed the taser just below your breasts. He looked into your eyes with anger.  
  
"You shouldn't have done that," he said.  
  
And then you were consumed by a world of pain. Shocks spasmed through your whole body. All of your muscles cramped in the most horrible way possible. You crashed sideways on the floor.   
  
"Oh God!" You wailed.  
  
It was the worst thing you had experienced yet. Your body was sore and sensitive even after the shocks had worn off.   
  
Steve stood by your body, basking in your pain. Your scream, your expressions, everything hit all the right buttons in him. His cock stirred in his black jeans and Steve's hand automatically went down to palm it through the fabric. That image didn't make things any easier on you.   
  
You laid on your stomach, panting and waiting for the pain to subside before you could try to raise yourself. Steve came in and kicked you over to your back.   
  
"That was beautiful to watch," he commented, happily.  
  
You eyed him with caution as you raised yourself on your elbows and started scooting backwards. Steve bent down and wrapped his hand around your right calf. He pulled you back in a rough motion. You kicked and thrashed your legs as Steve crawled in between them, forcing your thighs apart.  
  
"No!"   
  
You struggled harder to get away from him or to push him away from you. Anything to create a distance. You had only managed to scratch his face with your nails just once, but you were sure it must have been a feather touch to him. You didn't even see any red lines forming on his white skin.   
  
Your nails might not have hurt Steve but they did give him a reason to hurt you. He immediately retaliated by giving you a good slap that made your vision blur for a few moments. The movements of your body had also seized. You could hear a loud ringing in your ear. That whole cheek burned red. In your moment of haze Steve took both of your hands together and pinned them above your head with his left hand.   
  
"Looks like I gotta tase you again, huh?" Steve spoke into your ear.  
  
You whimpered and wriggled when you felt the sharp electrodes on your inner thigh. You madly shook your head at him.   
  
"N-no, please. I'm sorry," you cried.  
  
The taser travelled up your thigh and in between your legs. You trembled and pleaded him through tearful eyes. A satisfied grin drew on his face as he watched the terror unfold and intensify in your eyes.  
  
"It'll be fun," he said.  
  
The head of the taser pressed up against your clothed vulva. You screwed your eyes shut and braced yourself for the shocks. A few seconds passed by but the anticipated jolts of electricity didn't come. Hesitantly you opened your eyes to find Steve frozen in his position. He was looking down at you with a grin plastered on his face. He was toying with you.  
  
"As much as I would love to, I will not tase you if you keep those fucking claws to yourself, understand?" He asked.  
  
It was hard to catch the meaning of what he said at first given the state of mind that you were in. But his words became clearer when he once again shoved the taser in between your legs and growled, "Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes, yes!" You squealed.   
  
"Good," Steve said as he released your wrists from his hold.   
  
You could feel the blood rushing back into your numb wrists and hands. You couldn't have attacked him with them even if you wanted to. While you were rubbing your reddened wrists to soothe them Steve had put the taser away.  
  
He was quick to come back to his original intention, taking no time to get his hands back on your body.  Steve hooked his fingers in the cleavage of your dress and ripped the whole of it off in one go. You didn't even get the time to respond to that with a scream or a whimper. But you did try to cover yourself with your arms when Steve tried to come for your bra.   
  
"Hands to yourself," he reminded you as he slapped your arms away.  
  
Soon you felt his warm skin wrapped all around your bare breasts. The touch could have felt good if he meant it to. But he was only here for his own pleasure. You turned your head away from him and cried silently to yourself.   
  
One of his hands detached themselves from your globes only to travel down to your nether regions. You couldn't prevent your thighs from squeezing themselves around the Captain's forearm. Little did that matter to him. He opened your legs to his convenience very easily and tore your panties away just like he did your dress. Your whole body was burning with shame.  
  
The cool air of the room only brushed on your core momentarily as Steve cupped it whole with his large hand. Your body allowed his long fingers to slide smoothly across the sensitive skin.   
  
"You are wet, doctor. Honestly, I didn't take you for a whore," he commented.  
  
You clenched your jaw shut. You could have argued with him that it was your body's natural reaction to the stimulus provided and not a sign of your whole being's consent to what he was doing. But what use would that have been.  
  
"Back in my days women were pure. They had dignity and innocence. The women of these days are just messed up, aren't you?"  
  
You wished he could just shut up and not make this more difficult than it already was. But the end of his sentence was followed by him pushing in two fingers into your hole. You winced at the burning intrusion. Clearly, you weren't wet enough.   
  
"Better take this good because what's coming next will be so much worse."  
  
His threat was accentuated by the clinking sound of his belt buckle coming undone. He retrieved his slick covered fingers and wiped them on your thigh. You were panic stricken once again and you tried to crawl back away from him. But Steve held you firmly on your place by your hips.   
  
The head of his cock nudged at your entrance. You could feel its hugeness already, there was no reason to doubt it. You couldn't believe and hadn't predicted earlier that Steve would actually go so far.  
  
"Steve, please," you made a last plea to anything good that was left in the broken man.  
  
Steve ignored you. Your plea turned into a shrill scream of pain as he forced himself inside you. His cock was all that you had imagined and then some. Your hands came flying towards his chest to push him away even though you couldn't have.  
  
Steve's face was scrunched up with pleasure. It seemed that his imagination of you was just as accurate as yours of him and maybe more. Of course, for him it meant nothing bad. He had barely stilled in you for a second before he started moving to and fro within you. You were stretched and filled beyond your body's natural capacity without the necessary prior preparation. The fingers were no warning for this.   
  
Your office echoed with multiple sounds ranging from Steve's groans and grunts, your own whimpers and cries, and the obscene slapping of your pelvis against his.   
  
"Oh, doctor, you feel so good," he panted between his thrusts. “I have wanted this for so long!”  
  
If he could only feel the pain of him tearing you. Surely, he could see the blood that eased his way in. But Steve would have argued that he has faced much worse.  
  
Before the world's population had halved, you had expected the Captain to be a gentle and passionate lover. Much different from this raw and animalistic version of him that you were forced to experience now. All the war, the violence and the loss does that to a man. But your understanding of that concept didn't make all this any better on you.  
  
Rutting away inside you wasn't doing that good for him after a while. So, Steve decided to trouble you more by locking both his hands around your relatively thin throat. The sight of your purpling face and the faint sound of you choking made him go harder. You tried with all your might to free your wind pipe but to no avail. You thought that you were going to die. Perhaps, that would you have been better.  
  
Steve, however, let you breathe when he saw your eyes dimming and the movement of your body seizing. From then on, he kept one hand around your neck and the other at your hip. It made his slamming into your body easier and that way he could block off your air whenever he wanted.   
  
It was all too overwhelming for you to take. His thrusts inside you had become a bit more tolerable but still not completely. There were a few sparks of pleasure inside you if he happened to slid against the right spots, but nearly not enough to give you an orgasm. Perhaps, if your pleasure was one of his priorities then you could have felt that. Not that you wanted to. Certainly not this way.  
  
You just wanted the man to come as quickly as he could, but he seemed to go on forever. You hadn't taken in account the fact that Steve was gifted with superhuman stamina. You were sure you won't remain conscious by the time he actually finishes.  
  
Steve was eager to chase his climax too. He tightened his grip where his hands held you while bending down to give attention to your breasts. Your body trembled at the feeling of his hot and wet mouth wrap around your nipple. The roll of his tongue on them was heavenly. Your walls clenched against him in response. He produced a satisfactory grunt.   
  
He played your body like an instrument. Licking, touching and choking you at his whim to elicit a reaction that helped him come closer to his release. And when the moment came, he sank his teeth in your delicate bud. You screamed louder than he moaned as he spilled his seed inside you.  
  
Your body had become frail, sore and entirely exhausted by the end. You could see the blood on his lips through your lidded eyes. It didn't matter anymore because you thought that he'd finally leave you.   
  
You sighed with relief as he pulled himself away from you. But respite was short lived. Steve was already pulling you up and positioning you according to his will. You were placed on your hands and knees with the leather chair as your support. He didn't face any physical defiance from you. You were too weak and spent to put up a fight. But your mind could still comprehend what was coming at you for the second time  
  
"S-Steve, wait," you said in a feather like voice.  
  
His hands were around your neck and hip again.   
  
"For what, (y/n)?"  
  
The dreaded push of his cock was back on your sore entrance.  
  
"Stop, I can't," you panted. "Not again."  
  
Steve pulled your back against his chest. He dipped it chin on your shoulder and pressed his lips against your ear shell.   
  
"Too bad, doctor, because I have only just started."  
  
  
  
  
  
 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You cannot run from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I whipped this up so fast, I hope its good.

"Wait, Miss (l/n)!" The nurse, who had been taking care of you at the hospital, came running to you just as you were about to exit the hospital building.

You turned to see her holding a card and a rose in her hand, making you wonder why she'd feel the need to do give you those. Perhaps, this was a new thing they did to cheer up sexual assault victims, you assumed.

"You don't need to," you told the nurse, politely.

She shoved the rose and card into your hands, ignoring what you said.

"Oh, silly. It's not from me. It's from the Captain America, you know, the man who saved you and got you here?"

Even the mention of his name brought chills down your spine and made your stomach churn. You were already not too happy to know that he himself had taken you to the hospital after he was done with you and this gesture just made you more perplexed.

"Oh, really? Are you sure?" You asked the nurse as you examined the pretty pink card in your hand.

"Yes, I am pretty sure. He gave these to me personally and told me to give them to you while you were getting all checked up," the nurse said, cheerfully.

You contained your urge to correct her dreamy image of Steve right then and there. Instead you gave her a weak smile.

"Thanks," you said.

"Don't thank me. Thank him. He saved you! You are so lucky that Captain found you. Sure, you weren't conscious when he was here, but he was so worried about you! I tell you, you don't need to worry about a thing or that man who did this to you when Captain America himself is watching over you."

_That bastard._

The nurse was practically swooning over the him. And while it was annoying, you couldn't blame her. Any girl would have been head over heels for the opportunity to be saved by the charming super soldier, but only if they knew the truth.

"Gee, lucky me," you whispered to yourself. "Anyway, I should leave now," you told the nurse.

"Alright. You take care of yourself, hon!"

You rushed away from the overexcited nurse with the card and rose clutched tightly in either of your hands.

As you waited for a taxi by the roadside, you wondered about all that had happened to you and analysed Steve's behaviour. He had played his cards intelligently. By bringing you here himself he had once again become the hero that he was known to be. The cops thought that he was your saviour. The people at the hospital thought so too. But Steve hadn't done just that. He went as far as to wash you and clean you before he deposited you to the hospital's care. Much of the evidence, his DNA, had been washed off you like that.

"Cap's good heart didn't let him leave you in that battered state, so he got you cleaned up. Can’t blame him, he did what he thought was the best, didn't know any better," you remember the cops telling that while they were asking you questions at the hospital.

A laugh had almost escaped your lips when they said that. You wished that they could see and know what Steve had become. But you were compelled to tell the cops that you had no idea who it was, that you were unconscious the whole time and the only thing you remembered was the bang on your head. Who would have believed you if you told them that your rapist was Steve Rogers, America’s hero?

Memories of the rape flashed in your mind even when you didn't want to think about them. Thankfully, you had passed out not too long after Steve had started fucking you for the second time. But by the soreness of your body and the numerous bruises on it, you could tell that he had taken his sweet time with you. Walking straight was a trouble for you. You forced yourself from not breaking down in public. You'd give yourself that opportunity once you have reached the safe confines of your house.

Once you were in a taxi, you decided to open the card given to you by Steve. You didn't know what to expect and it surprised you how just a piece of paper was giving you so much anxiety. It wasn't too fancy, just a standard pink color card that you could tell he had bought from a local gift shop. Only you didn't know why he'd want to give you a rose and a card after what he did. Maybe he felt guilty?

But the card gave you a different perspective. It read-

_Dear Doctor (y/n),_

_Our last session together was really helpful to me and I am feeling much better than before. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said about you. But I'd pray and hope that you get well soon so that we can meet again next week, same time. I will look forward to that._

_Thanks again for what you did, or rather, let me do... Wishing you good health._

_Yours truly,_

_Steve Rogers_

You tore the paper as soon as you read it and crumpled the remains in your hand. The tears couldn't remain in your eyes anymore, they spilled freely down your cheeks. The one time wasn't enough for him, he had to chase you now. He wasn't the same anymore.

You had expected him to feel at least some remorse. It would have given him some scope of redemption. He wasn't a man like this. Where was the Captain America with strong morals? Did the countless years of fighting along with what happened with Thanos really take a toll on him?

The first thing you did after entering your house was fetching some wine from your kitchen cabinet and gulping it down straight from the bottle. You were never one to lose your cool so much that you'd need to drown it down with alcohol or drugs. Well, something so bad hadn't happened to you either.

The snap hadn't affected you too much. Being a closed and reserved person, you didn't have a boyfriend neither too many friends to lose. Your father had dusted, but your mother and sister had survived. And by now you were quite alright with that. Things were going much better for you than for most people including Steve. The universe just couldn't digest that.

You thought about what Steve had written in the card. It was basically a sugar-coated threat. He'll come again for you. You would definitely not be working as a therapist for at least a couple of weeks. No patient of yours knew about your home address. Hopefully, Steve didn’t too.

You sent all your patients a message regarding the cancellation of all your appointments till further notice, but you left Steve out. You feared that if he got that message then he'll try to find you. You hoped that he'd just go to your office, find it closed and then return home. That would give you a window of about four days before he tries to find your whereabouts and reaches your threshold. For all you knew, he might have already found out about your address.

You considered moving out of your house. Going to live with the people you knew was not an option because you didn't want Steve following you there and ending up hurting those whom you care about. You thought on that for a while until you stopped. This was your house that you had bought after gathering money through years of hard work. Your whole life was here, your work was here. You couldn't just run away and leave it all behind. More importantly, you couldn't leave a crazy Steve out there on the loose. If he won't be able to hurt you then he'll hurt someone else and that'd be on your conscience too.

It'll all truly end by stopping Steve. You didn't have much hope on getting him caught. That didn't mean you won't try to.

Meanwhile, you bought a gun. You didn't have a license for it, but for the first time you were glad about the casual attitude America had towards guns. You did realize that a normal gun would be pretty useless against the super soldier and even if you were able to use it on him, you'd end up looking like a criminal for shooting the golden hero. Nevertheless, you kept it on your person at all times.

The cops had contacted you only to tell you that they hadn't made any progress with your case. You weren't surprised to hear that. There was no clue pointing at anyone, but Steve, and him they won't even consider.

You spent most of your time locked in at your house, busying yourself with either books or a TV show or some recreational activity or meditation, anything to keep yourself distracted from the memories of what had happened to you. There were times when you'd completely breakdown and cry your eyes out, when you’d feel a heightened amount of fear of him coming back again. Those moments and came and went.

You were counting on the fact that he wouldn't actually come to your house. Not until after he finds your office closed. But on the very second day of your peaceful stay at home Steve decided to show up.

It was near evening and you were bundled up in a blanket on your couch watching some old movie on your TV when the doorbell rang. Your gut told you that it was danger. You weren't expecting anyone. You had to suppose that it could be him.

You quickly turned off the TV and picked up your gun before going to the door. Your heart pounded and your whole body trembled when you saw him through the peephole. As if he had sensed your presence there, Steve banged a fist on the door.

"Open up, doc. I know you are in there," he shouted.

Your legs felt like jelly and you were sweating uncontrollably. You clamped your free hand on your mouth to prevent yourself from gasping too loud. This was not the time to have a panic attack if you wanted to make it out safely. You needed to move.

Steve banged the door again. "Don't make me angry, doctor. You know that does not work out well for you."

You made your way back into the living room on hushed steps and picked up your phone from the couch. Steve was still at the front door, pounding away at it. At this rate he could break into your house. But you imagined, more like hoped, that he won't turn all savage in an area where other people lived too. He could get caught like that. That might just save your life.

Holding your smartphone and gun in each of your hands, you ran towards the backdoor. You had already dialled 911 and were just waiting for someone to pick up.

"911, what is your emergency?" A female operator answered.

"Someone's trying to break into my house," you whispered in the lowest audible voice.

"Alright, ma'am, the police are on their way. Meanwhile, you should stay inside, keep all the doors locked, and hide in the safest place that you can find," said the operator.

The banging on your door had stopped and you couldn't hear him shout anymore. Somehow it made you more scared like when the spider you saw on the floor disappears and you have no idea where the hell it went. You were panting so hard that your breath was crackling through the call.

"Ma'am, are you there? Are you alright?"

"Y-yes. But can you please send the cops quicker? I think he is trying to-"

There were footsteps in your backyard. You froze against the backdoor.

"Ma'am? What happened? Where is he?"

"Oh god! He's in my backyard! Please send them faster!" You cried through the phone.

"They are almost there, ma'am. Don't panic. Nothing will happen to you," the operator assured you.

But all your focus was on the footsteps that came nearer by each second. It'd be easier for him to break in through the backdoor without being seen by anyone. It was almost dark out too.

Your smartphone's receiver chirped with the operator's chatter, but you didn't listen. You found yourself paralyzed on the floor, staring at the door with your gun pointed at it, waiting to shoot the moment it budges.

The doorbell rang out of the blue. You were shaken away from your focus on the door. The footsteps stopped abruptly.

"Ma'am? Hello ma'am? The cops have reached your house. You are safe now."

Your eyes widened as the tears poured down from them. You couldn't believe it. The cops were here and Steve was in your backyard. There was no explanation he would be able to give about that now. Unless, he decides to murder the cops at your front door, he was about to find himself in a tricky situation.

You smiled to yourself as you ran to answer the front door, making sure you had kept the gun aside before it. Before opening the door, you peeked through the peephole and to your relief you found two blue uniformed cops standing at your front door.

But all of your happiness faded when you opened the door only to find a third person standing beside the two cops, who was none other than Steve Rogers.

_How the hell did he get here so fast?_

"Good evening, doctor (y/n), we got a complain that someone was trying to break into your house. Turns out it was Captain America all along!" The taller one joked.

"No, but-"

"I am so sorry, doctor (y/n). I should have been more careful. I was just visiting to check on how you were doing after what happened. I didn't mean to scare you," Steve said in an apologetic tone.

Had you not known his other side you would have bought his lies easily just like the cops did. Damn, he was so good at this. He seemed some gentle, so innocent, so caring. Here you had thought that he'd be caught by the police. But Steve had turned the tables on you completely. In fact, that tables were never in your turn.

"That's alright, Captain. Doctor (y/n) has been through a lot and she has gotta be on the edge," said the shorter cop.

"Everything is alright, doctor. You are safe especially now that Captain is here. Nothing to worry about," the cops reassured you.

"But I heard something. Someone was in my backyard!" You told them.

"Couldn't have been. I have standing here for a while, waiting for you to answer the door. I would have seen someone or heard something," Steve argued.

The cops agreed. You felt so helpless.

"No! I did hear someone!"

"Listen, doctor," Steve came forward and took your hands in his.

You had tried to pull away, but his grip was firm.

"You are in trauma and it is normal for you to be on edge and hear and see things that are not there. Trust me, I have been there. You are a therapist, you'd know too. But everything is fine. No one is here. You are safe. We are here to keep you safe," he said, softly.

You were shivering and crying. He was right there, the cops were right there, they were telling you that you are safe, but you weren't. Steve had trapped you efficiently.

"Doctor (y/n), if you want, we can check the whole house for you. It'll make you feel safer."

"That's a good idea," Steve affirmed.

You didn't say no. If you had refused then they'd leave and you'd be left all alone with Steve. So, you stood in your living room with the shorter cop at your side while the other cop and Steve scanned around your house. You were going mad with the fear bubbling in your mind.

"No one is here, doctor. You are safe," the cop told you.

"Calm down and take some rest, doctor. We'll be on our way now," said the shorter cop as he and the other cop walked towards the front door.

Involuntarily, you lurched forward to grab the arm of one of the cops.

"Wait, please stay..."

They stared at you awkwardly. Steve came forward to separate you from them.

"It's alright, officers. You can go about your duty. I'll stay with doctor (y/n) tonight, keep her company, safe and secured," Steve convinced them.

He had wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into him, giving away the image that he has got your back. The cops smiled at him and you.

"You are lucky to be in such good hands, doctor. Everything will be alright. Call us if something happens again. We'd be patrolling the area too, so no one should go breaking in without our knowledge," the tall one said.

"And if someone does, I'll be there show them a piece of good old Captain America justice."

The cops laughed at his comment. You cringed internally, but didn't let it show. You stared out into the cold and accepted your fate.

It was a different kind of miserable feeling altogether, watching your chance of getting saved from Steve, walk away right in front of your eyes. The people who were supposed to protect you from danger had sent you right into the heart of it. You couldn't do anything about it now.

As soon as the cops left, Steve shoved you back inside your house and shut the door behind him. He broke out from his gentleman facade, his expression went rigid and cold again. Your nightmares had come back to you.

You stared at him breathlessly, as he produced a gun from the back of his jeans, your gun.

"Look what I found. Were you planning to kill me with it?" He laughed.

You glanced at the gun, your last chance at safety, taken away from you. You turned away from Steve and walked into your house without giving him a word or a speck of reaction.

"Where are you going?" He asked as he followed your steps.

"I have to say that I am impressed, Steve," you told him.

Your voice came cracked and hoarse. You were breaking down inside yet you maintained a straight face.

"Impressed?" He asked.

You giggled at him. Steve followed you into the kitchen and watched you as you took at a bottle of wine, a wine glass and placed them on the kitchen's counter.

"I had only expected impulsive acts of aggression from you, Steve. I didn't take you one to think so intelligently about this, plan things out and be so manipulative. It just doesn't go with your persona of the good Captain America, does it?" you commented, swinging the glass of wine in the air.

"Shocking, but impressive."

Steve was confused by the way you were acting. It bothered him.

"You are not afraid?" He asked as you sipped on the red liquid.

You swallowed a big gulp before you spoke.

"Oh, I am terrified. Absolutely terrified," you said without looking at him.

If you caved in to the anxiety and fear that you were feeling, you won't be able to stand there and talk to Steve. He partly understood that, however, he was eager to see you crumble. The way you flinched and tried to scurry away when he stepped behind the counter, where you were, was satisfying to him.

"Damn, it's almost dinner time. Are you hungry? I can make some. I lost all my appetite, but I can make some for you," you rambled on.

You took gulp after gulp of the wine, wishing it'd numb your senses faster.

"Stop," Steve told you.

You ignored him and distracted yourself by opening your refrigerator and pretending to look for something to cook.

"I-I have some left-over food, but I wouldn't for the life of me feed the Captain America old food. Let's see, I can cook-"

"Stop!" Steve shouted at you. He slammed the refrigerator's door shut in your face.

Startled, you jumped back away from him. The wine glass almost fell out of your hand. He was standing right in front of you, yet you couldn't look him the face.

You took another sip.

"What? I- I was just l-looking for-"

Steve pushed you backwards.

"Stop acting like that," he said through a clenched jaw.

You drank more of the wine. You were irritated by how slowly it was working, you couldn't even feel it. It was as if your emotions were outdoing the alcohol.

Before you could finish what was remaining in the glass, Steve snatched it away from your hand and slammed it so hard on the counter that it broke.

"What the hell?" He got on your nerves now.

He held you by your arm and pulled you closer to him.

"You don't get to run away from this," he said.

For the first time, since he had entered your house, you glared at him. Though your anger was far from being a threat to him, he was certainly amused by you. The frown on your face was cute.

"Do you see me running? I am not running! I know I cannot. Why the hell would you do that?" You screamed at him.

Steve observed your antics with a smile on his face. You huffed as you tried to go back to your wine bottle. Large hands grabbed you from the sides and pulled you back. You snapped and clawed at his hands with your sharp nails.

"Let me go!" You turned around and slapped his sturdy chest.

You didn't know why you were putting up a fight when you already knew that it was useless

Steve pushed you against the counter, the stone edge dug painfully into your back. Your hands were swinging out of control, hitting, slapping and punching any part of him that you could reach.

"Let me go," you whined.

He let you throw a tantrum for a few seconds before he grabbed your wrists in each of his hands and pinned them at your sides.

"Let me drink my wine at least!" You protested, trying your best to get out from in between him and the counter.

The closer he got to you, the more you seemed to lose it.

"No," he said, bluntly.

"Agh! What do you want from me?"

"To realize what is happening and that you no power over it, I guess," Steve answered.

You stopped struggling against his grip and looked him dead in the eye.

"Oh, right. You want me to become a mess and start begging like a weakling, right? Or you won't feel like a man!" You screamed at him.

You had no idea where all that was coming from, maybe it was the wine that had finally kicked in. Steve scowled at you.

"I will give you a chance to shut up and behave more wisely," he warned you.

And you should have taken the warning. But you weren't done yet.

"Or what? Why don't you just tell me that you won't get it hard unless I start acting more submissive, unless I start begging?"

The slap this time was much harder than before. You fell sideways on the floor at his feet. The spur of stupid bravery finally died in you.

"Or I will the beat that fucking attitude out of you, doctor. Then you'll act perfectly submissive when you won't be able to move a limb or speak a word. You want that, doc, huh?"

He bent down and tilted your head up by your hair. You were sobbing while holding your burning cheek with one hand.

"Don't start crying now. I have got so much more planned for tonight," he said as he petted your head.

The dread took over you. You regretted blabbering so much. It was no use apart from provoking Steve. He forced you back on your feet and dragged you with him. You knew that you were about to go to your bedroom as soon as Steve took you to the staircase.

You gasped and hissed at the way your scalp burned due to his tight grip on your hair. His pushing made you stumble all your way up the stairs. But you refrained from saying anything. For some reason Steve knew exactly which room was supposed to be your bedroom and that disturbed you.

He threw you in roughly and you collided with your bed, falling on top of it. Steve was closing the door behind him even though there was nobody else in the house and nowhere for you to run to.

You balled the bedsheet in your fists as you waited for Steve to do something. He didn't come near you, instead he leaned on a wall to your right.

"Get up, doctor, and strip for me," he ordered.

You stared at him in disbelief. You weren't going to aid him in your demise.

"You heard me. Take off your clothes like a good girl. You wouldn't want me tearing through your clothes every time we do this. That way you won't be left with any clothes to wear soon enough," he reasoned.

You agreed with him on that one. It'd be better to not ruin all your clothes. At least you'd be able to prevent something that way. Still, it was not easy for you to strip with him watching you so intensely, knowing that you were about to be raped and having a vivid memory of what that will feel like.

In your peripheral vision you could see him shedding his upper clothes as well. You hadn't got the chance to see that marvellous and muscled, sculpture like body last time. It had been good that way because his body was nothing short of amazing, yet terrifying. It was a standing testimony for the super strength that he possessed and used to take over you so easily.

Steve's laughter broke you from your shameless staring at his body. Your cheeks went redder than when he had slapped you.

"You don't regret sleeping with me after seeing all this, huh?" He purposefully ran a hand across all the toned skin.

You refused to drool all over him. His handsomeness didn't change the fact that you were forced into this circumstance. You snapped your head away from him and continued to strip away every bit of fabric on your body. When you were fully bare, Steve pointed you to the centre of the bed.

"On your knees, right there," he said.

You followed his commands and positioned yourself on your knees where he told you to be. You weren't sure of what was about to happen.

Steve knelt down beside your bed and searched for something under it. You were utterly confused. You leaned slightly over your bed to see what he was doing. He had pulled out a long wooden box which you had no idea existed in your house, much less below your own bed.

"I placed it here the day you were in the hospital," he informed you quickly, clearing your doubts, but not much to your comfort.

Steve opened the clasps of the box. From your position you couldn't see what was kept inside but you weren't expecting anything good. He took out the long object and stood up to show it to you. Much to your dismay, it was riding crop sitting in his hands. You scoffed.

Steve had the happiest, cockiest expression on his face as he tapped the tip of the riding crop on his hand.

"Time for your punishment, doctor," he announced.

You cocked a brow at him. "Punishment for what?"

"For not opening the door for me, for calling the cops on me," he explained.

"Lame excuses. You'd hit me regardless," you replied.

The Captain shushed you by placing the leathery tip right on your lips.

"Shh, (y/n). You are talking too much and you know how I hate that. "

It was effective. You were quiet the moment it touched your skin. You had experience with whips before, but in a controlled and consensual manner, where the aim was pleasure for both the parties and not just for one. Being aware of how it felt to be whipped you could imagine how bad it would hurt if Steve put all his strength into it. Shivers went down your spine at thought of it.

Steve marvelled at the way your body stiffened. He could already see that this was going to be fun. He playfully brushed your skin from your face to your neck and chest with the riding crop. The whole area was littered with bruises, bite marks and hickeys, courtesy of him. Your arms that were covering your breasts were forced to move away when he tapped at them.

"I haven't actually tried this on anyone before, so I have no idea how much force I should use. Let's test, shall we?"

The leather was back on your face again and you were sweating from anticipation. You turned your face away from it. But Steve tilted your head back towards him with the whip.

"Stay still," he told you before he slapped the riding crop on your face.

You gasped loudly. Your hand immediately went to cover the region he had hit. There were cracks forming on your lip from which blood leaked out like little drops. The whole area stung and went red.

"Oh, that was good," Steve celebrated as he went around to the other side of the bed.

"Hands at your side now," he ordered, nudging the hand at your mouth with the riding crop.

You took a deep breath and braced yourself for the whipping. The first lash landed on your back just above your butt. It was harsh and you fell forward on one hand from the impact.

"No, no. Stay still, doctor, or I will have to think of tying you up somewhere," he threatened

You straightened your back and maintained your form on your knees as he wished. At the start Steve would brush your skin for a few seconds before hitting it. The whips got harder and more spontaneous as he progressed and eased himself into it. He didn't leave a spot untouched from your back to your front, he hit wherever he pleased.

The sound of you gasping, wincing and hissing in pain worked just right for him. This was as pleasurable for him as painful it was for you. Your tears splashed and spilled over the red stinging marks on your chest and abdomen. You wanted to beg him to stop, but you kept your jaw clenched.  He could see what you were doing.

"You know, (y/n). I will not get tired of this, literally. I can do this for as long as I want. But I will stop if you ask me nicely," he said in between the lashes.

You didn't respond.

"Or I can find something else to hit you with. I have other whips and they hurt more, I have heard," he said as he gave you a particularly strong lash on your back.

You debated with yourself internally. Giving in would save you so much pain, while not giving in would account for nothing more than the illusion of your pride and strength. There will be no logical gain from that. Finally, when the stinging got really bad, you gave in.

"Okay, stop, stop," you panted.

"Nicely, I said," he added with another whip of the riding crop.

"Stop, stop, please?"

Steve chuckled as he dragged the leather across the welts forming on your skin.

"Nicer," he said.

"Please, stop, sir?"

"Yes, that is good," he said, but whipped you nevertheless. "One more time."

You repeated the nice plea he wanted half-heartedly. Steve only stopped after he had given you four more lashes and heard you beg three more times. You shrunk down on the bed and curled into a ball. All the welts on your skin burnt like fire.

You were crying into your knees when Steve pulled you by your ankle and flipped you over to your stomach. The familiar press of cock at your entrance was back again. He rubbed his length up and down your slippery slit.

"Is it just me or are you more wet than last time?"

Indeed, you could feel it too. You were a bit ashamed that your body had enjoyed this more than you wanted it to. It wasn't your fault that pain released endorphins which your brain perceived as pleasure. But for Steve the explanation was much simpler and it was that you are a whore.

You didn't bother to argue with him on that. It wouldn't have stopped him from plunging deep into you. He held your hips for leverage as he pounded into you. The stretch of your pussy was painful, but you could feel more pleasure this time. Your walls clamped around his girth, wanting more of him and Steve laughed at that.

Steve pulled you back into his body so that your back was flat against his front. He kneaded your breasts with one hand while the other slipped between your legs to stimulate your clit. Bolts of unwanted pleasure shot across your body.

"You want to come this time?" He breathed against your neck.

Your response was somewhere between a whimper and a moan.

"I am feeling generous today. Think I might let you come then," he said as he hit all the right spots inside your pussy.

You objected him by trying to pull his hand away from between your legs. You tried to wriggle away from him, but he held you tight to himself. Steve sucked at the sensitive spots on your neck. It was a tough battle fought against your own sexual pleasure, one that you definitely lost by the end.

It was a filthy delight that you hadn't experienced since a long time, especially after the snap. You collapsed on the bed after you orgasmed. Steve was still going, he was far from over.

 

***

You woke up to the uneasy sensation of fullness. You were extremely tired and your body protested the activity it was being put through. Rays of sunlight obstructed your field of vision when you opened your eyes. Your head was heavy and fuzzy and did not want comprehend your what was happening.

You started by trying to push out the thing that was moving inside you and when that did not work you whined.

"Good morning, doctor," Steve's voice came in a deep grunt.

You were alert all of a sudden.

"S-Steve," you called out as you pushed at his chest.

The man's stamina left you baffled. His desire was insatiable and your body was not built to service a man like him.

"Get out," you moaned.

"Just a little bit more," he grunted, going faster inside you.

You tried to move but found your hands pinned on the bed beside your head. You had no choice but to lay there and let him finish.

But by laying there you were reminded of how you were stuck with the man who had brutalised you for his fun. You could have cried, but your eyes were swollen and empty. You just wanted to be left alone.

By the time Steve found his release you had fully woken up. Steve let go of your wrists and you quickly slipped out from between him and the bed. You rushed into the bathroom and locked it from inside. Your legs were wobbly and you had to lean on the sink for support. You felt sick and had the biggest urge to puke, but resisted.

"After you are done, come down. I'll make breakfast!" Steve shouted from outside.

You almost told him to get the hell out of your house. You had no wish to have breakfast him. Couldn't he just fuck you and leave you to yourself afterwards?

In the shower, you scrubbed yourself hard to clean the caked layers of semen off of your thighs and the sensation of him off your whole body. The first time he had done it for you and you hated to think of how he had done it. You took your time with the shower, hoping to find him gone once you went out of the bathroom. But after a while you were compelled to leave or else you would catch a cold by soaking for so long in the water.

It was evident that he hadn't left your house by the sound of his footsteps and the clanking of cutlery coming from downstairs. You hesitated, but you went down, figuring he won't leave until he sees you and bids a goodbye.

The aroma of cooked bacon, eggs and freshly made coffee reached your nose from the corridor itself. Your stomach rumbled with hunger, you realized that you hadn't eaten since last night.

Steve was in the middle of eating when you entered the kitchen. He smiled at you as you came in. You wished you could punch that smile off his face.

"Sit down," he told you, pointing at the seat opposite to him, by the counter.

"Someone's in a good mood," you commented as you sat down in front of him.

The food looked delicious you had to admit.

"Yes, and I have you to thank for that. You just might be the best therapist that I ever encountered," he expressed happily.

"Or the worst," you added as you put a piece of bacon in your mouth.

"Either way, you work out for me," Steve said.

You chose not to reply to that.

"I was wondering that you have such a beautiful, big house, yet you stay alone in it. No family, no husband. It is kind of sad and unsafe for a woman to be all alone like that," said Steve.

You frowned at him.

"I see you haven't gotten rid of your backwards 1940s thinking, Captain," you jabbed at him. "The serum didn't turn everything good, I guess."

This time you enjoyed the way his expression went cold. You sipped your coffee slowly as Steve decided what to say next. For a second you thought that you were going to be hit, but then Steve smirked at you.

"You like provoking me, doctor? Are you starting to enjoy all this?" He taunted back.

You set your coffee mug down, stared him in the eye and said, "No, I never gave you my consent. I don't enjoy it."

"Well, you can keep lying to yourself if that is what helps you sleep at night," Steve teased you.

You sighed. "You know, Steve. You could get other girls to fuck you however the way you want, with their full consent. Girls would line up for you, normal or even supermodels. They'd let you do whatever you want with them."

"Yes, but it won't be as fun as it is with you," he answered that quickly.

"How would you know if you won't even try?"

"I just do. Don't push me on that topic, (y/n). You will not get me to leave you until I decide to do so," he growled at you. One of his fists thumped down the counter, making everything on it shake.

You backed off. That was a strong reaction, an interesting one. There was some emotion in it, not just raw aggression. It was like you had hit a delicate cord.

You had wondered about why a man as beautiful, as handsome and as popular as him would ever want to sleep with a woman like you. He could get supermodels to sleep with him if he wanted. They'd let him treat them anyway he liked.

But you did know why he came to you. You could keep a secret no one else could. You didn't judge him and you understood the way he thought. Steve didn't want anyone else to know this side of him. He was probably ashamed of these urges, they went against his good, moralistic and heroic guy image, that the people loved him for. You were his only salvation. He didn't have to hide from you. Your profession had become a curse for you. But knowing his shameful secrets somewhere gave you an upper hand. If you played your cards right, you could use all of this against him in the future and get yourself free from his grasps.

For now, you will have to take what he gives you. Make him feel safe, comfortable and assured of the power that he has over you. You will have to wait for the right moment to turn it all over for him. It may be a delusional fantasy that had a slick chance of coming true, but even so, it somehow excited you. It gave you the courage to bear the pain that he is going to inflict on you.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are liking this side of Steve. Do comment :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the wait, I have been busy. But here's the new chapter. Enjoy!

You watched Steve twist and turn in his sleep with great amusement. This was the first time you were actually witnessing him go through the nightmares that he used to talk about in your previous therapy sessions. You could tell that he was experiencing a lot of pain, physical or mental, from the way he cried and whimpered in his unconscious state.

Steve woke up screaming and panting in a matter of a few minutes. His body was drenched in sweat and he seemed displaced.

"The nightmares haven't gone yet?" You asked, letting your voice pull him back to reality.

He snapped his head at your direction and there was a look of surprise on his face as if he had forgotten that it was your bed that he was sleeping in. It took him a few seconds to recollect his surroundings.

You were truly amazed to see how horrified he was to see you awake and sitting beside your bed. His soldier mind had immediately perceived your shadowy figure as a threat. You hadn't seen him this stunned before. He had expected you to be fast asleep like you usually were after your fucking sessions.

"What are you doing up?" Steve asked as he slipped out of the bed.

His voice was low and hoarse.

You recalled how you couldn’t sleep and had decided to stay up and read a book, and hence, got to see Steve in this state. An unanticipated advantage.

"My nightmare woke me up a while ago," you told him.

"Oh."

"By snoring too loud," you added.

Steve didn't find that funny at all. He was still at an edgy place from the dream he had. You had seen him tensed, upset and frustrated before during your therapy sessions, but this was something new. Even his eyes were wet. Observing him go through a nightmare was insightful. You did feel a tinge of pity in your heart for him, but somehow you had felt an odd satisfaction at every whimper and cry that he produced when he was sleep right up to the scream when he awoke. He really wasn’t just a war veteran or your patient anymore, he was also your tormentor.

You kept your eyes fixed on him as he took a towel and wiped the sweat off his face and torso, and cleared his eyes. He was staring away into the darkness and you could tell that he was still dwelling in his nightmare. You closed the book that you were reading and set it aside.

Steve didn't notice when you had left the chair in which you were sitting on and fetched him a glass of water.

"Here," you offered him.

You had to tap on his bicep to get his attention. Steve narrowed his eyes at you for a moment and then at the glass.

"Drink." You pushed the glass towards his face.

He hesitated, but took the glass away from your hand and downed the water in a few big gulps. You walked away from him to sit at the edge of your bed.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked, gently. This was the first time you had asked him something like that since he attacked you.

Steve didn't respond, he was still too deep in thoughts.

"Steve!" You shouted at him.

"Huh?" He looked at you, but he was still in a daze.

"Do you want to talk about it, your nightmare?" You asked again.

Steve shook his head, lazily.

"What's there to talk about? You already know everything," he said as he dragged his feet towards you.

"I am all up for hearing it all again. Maybe I'll find something new. Talking can be helpful, Steve. Let it out of your system," you coaxed him.

"No, I don't want to talk," he stated, sternly.

Steve stood in front of you and began pulling down his pants. You sighed and resigned to your fate of using your mouth for his pleasure rather than speaking for his mental benefit. Sucking his thick cock had been a difficult task for you since the first time you had done it. Not only was it hard to accommodate in your mouth, Steve never came quickly, and when you got tired of blowing him, he decided to take charge of the situation by fucking your throat instead. You’d be left with a sore throat.

You had tried to provide sexual pleasure to him a bit more willingly in hoped that it’d get him a bit soft on you. But you had a bleak chance of actually using it to control him because you just weren't able to keep up with him. Moreover, your consensual participation meant little to the man who had no regard for it since the start. The mind could be your only tool. But getting inside his head was not easy when he had such strong walls built up.

 

The nightmare thing had given you a new plan to go about. Although it was hard to predict when he'd have his next nightmare. Some nights he slept soundly, some nights he didn't. And you weren't always awake in the middle of the night to watch over him. You'd have to be aware on all nights that you shared with him.

One of those nights, after you two had sex and Steve had fallen asleep, you had decided to stay up despite the exhaustion that you were feeling. Thank God for caffeine. You sat beside him on the bed, reading through a novel, as you waited for the nightmares to attack him.

It started with him writhing and twisting followed by heavily laboured breathing. He clutched the sheets below him with both fists. His face was scrunched up in pain.

"No! No!" He groaned initially and then started screaming.

Without a moment's delay, you dropped the book aside and reached for him. You wrapped one arm around his head and pulled him into your bosom while you rubbed his chest with your other hand. His heart was pounding wildly against his chest.

"Shh, Steve, it's okay. Wake up. It's just a dream," you spoke into his ear.

You massaged his scalp and forehead with your fingers for a more calming effect. Heck, you even pressed soft kisses against his temple to soothe him. You had to push down the repulsion that you felt when you were so close to him, comforting a man who only ever hurt you. Your actions partly contradicted your thoughts. It was not like that you were not doing this on purpose.

"It's okay, wake up," you said as you shook him.

Steve’s writhing seized slowly and he leaned into your touch, seeking the comfort that you were providing him. You continued massaging him and telling him to wake up. You were pleased to find him holding on you to like his life depended on it.

He stopped screaming and just let out small whimpers. In his sleeping state he reached for your hands, that were busy massaging his skin, and held on to them. Steve's hold was so strong that you couldn't move away from him even if you had wanted to.

Slowly his nightmare came to an end. The whimpers lessened. His breath would hitch every now and then until he finally broke out of the dream with your help. His arms wrapped around you tighter than before and you let him.

"It's alright, Steve. It was just a dream," you cooed to him like a mother.

"W-what?"

Steve was confused to find himself wrapped around you. You two never cuddled when you shared the bed together. He glanced up at you from your chest, demanding an explanation for this. You only gave him a weak smile.

"Everything is fine, Steve. You are here, you are safe," you assured him.

You laughed internally at how you had to make your rapist feel safe and calm with you when you should be the one receiving care.

As soon as he realised what was happening, Steve tore himself away from you and pushed you to the other side of the bed. Before you could lift yourself up, he was on you. He was pinning you down on the bed with his whole body. There was fear and uncertainty in his eyes which you had to reciprocate with fake warmness.

"What were you doing?" He asked you in an accusatory tone.

"I was just helping you wake up, Steve. You were having a nightmare," you informed him, calmly.

Steve was puzzled. That was something he had not expected you to do. It did not feel right.

"Why?"

"I was awake, I saw you moving and screaming. I had to help," you explained.

Steve furrowed his brows. He wasn't too comfortable with what had happened. You saw the scepticism in his eyes as he climbed off of you.

"I meant why would _you_ do that?"

You smiled at him. "I can help you cope with your nightmares in more than one way, Steve. I don't mind. This is healthier anyway."

Steve sighed, not really understanding your intentions. He sat at the edge of the bed and ran his hands through his moist hair. His shoulders were strained. You didn't want him feeling that way either. It was not in line with your plan.

You crawled closer to him, placing your palms on each of his shoulders.

"Do you feel like talking?" you whispered to him.

He shook his head.

You smoothed your hands over his tensed back.

"It's okay. It's alright," you whispered.

Steve looked at you over his shoulder.  He seemed irritated by all the sweet play that you were doing.

He dug his elbow into your ribs to push you away.

"I am leaving," he announced as he got up from the bed.

You contained the disappointment that you felt. Perhaps, you had went a bit overboard with your softness. He wasn't looking to find solace in you. You'd have to work harder to make him accept it.

As soon as Steve left your room and went downstairs, you let out a bellow into the air. The frustration was getting to you. You stood up and banged your fists into the nearest wall. The man just won't let you in.

 ***

The next day, you decided to take your frustrated self out of your house to blow some steam. You had been thinking to return to your job to keep yourself busy and focused on your patient’s problems rather than your own. At least them you could help. So, you gave a brief visit to your office that had been locked up for more than a week.

It had become dusty. All the things in the office were at the same place as they were before, along with the broken bottle of wine and the taser that rested near the spot where he had taken you.

You didn't let your mind associate your surrounded with the bad memories. Instead you made yourself worry about the awful wine stain on the carpet. Something had to be done about that.  You started with cleaning the whole floor area of your office and disposing off all the glass pieces. Then you began a piss poor attempt of washing the stained area of the carpet.

No matter how much you tried to block all the thoughts, you couldn't help but picture how that evening had gone with the whole stage set in front of you. Your hands trembled as they did their work. You felt the similar sickness in your stomach that you did in the earlier days of Steve's assault on you.

Over the days, you had gotten used to the helplessness and the despair that Steve brought to you. You remained as calm as you could by forcing yourself into a shell of denial. And that shell was cracking now.

Just like that, you were having a mental breakdown for the first time in several days. You hated everything you felt. All the memories, the pain and the helplessness made you cry your eyes out. The rush of emotions was overwhelming.

You regretted your decision of visiting your office. It was a foolish choice when you were still at a sensitive phase. You had to get out of there. You stopped everything that you were doing and went to wash your face in the office's bathroom before you ran out of the whole office.

While in your car, you played some of your favourite music to calm yourself down and ate some chocolate.  You drove yourself to a restaurant and even though you didn’t have an appetite, you forced some food down your throat.

Afterwards you decided to go to a shooting range to really get that rage out of you. Every bullet that you shot was like shooting away at the memories. You pictured him in front of you as you pulled the trigger. You had never felt such an immense mixture of anger, fear and despair at the same time.

You returned to your house before dinner time. After parking your car in the garage, you entered your house through the inner door and lit the dim lights on your way to the kitchen.

Steve's form became visible to you when the light fell on him. He was sitting, still as a statue, by the kitchen counter. His eyes were sharp on you.

You had a mini heart attack both because he appeared so suddenly in a dark room, like in the horror movies, and also because it was him. You crashed into the door frame, holding a hand to your pounding chest. An inaudible scream left your mouth.

"W-what are you doing?" You asked as you caught your breath.

Steve shrugged his shoulders.

"Do I have to give an explanation every time?"

You gave him a sour look. You sighed as you went to the refrigerator to get yourself some water.

"Well, I am really tired today. So, do you think that I can appeal to your better part and get a night off?" You took a shot in the dark.

"Rejoice, (y/n). I don't feel like having sex tonight," Steve said.

You did a dramatic head spin at him, giving him the biggest wide eyes.

"What?"

Steve smiled weakly.

"You heard that right," he said.

You noticed the tiredness in his eyes. Not physical, but mental. He looked worn off. You wondered what had happened. He didn't seem like his usual aggressive self. This was quite a good response to your holding him last night, if it was a response to that.

"May I ask why?" You asked, innocently.

"Ah, I don't know. I have got a headache," he said, pressing his thumbs into his temple.

That was not exactly true, you could tell. Steve was fidgeting like he did when he got too worked up during your therapy sessions. He didn’t face you when he spoke. There was vein popping in his temple which could mean that his head was hurting, but you were willing to bet otherwise. You smiled to yourself.

"And here I thought you were some serum induced super creature who can't be affected by such small things," you commented before taking a gulp of water.

Steve scoffed at your assumption.

"It enhanced me, it did not make me perfect, not invincible, unfortunately," he said in an annoyed tone.

"Hmm." You stared at his foot that shifted slightly, but continuously, on the floor.

"Why come to me then?" You asked him as you began searching for ingredients in your refrigerator.

An awkward silence followed your question through which only the shuffling of the objects inside the refrigerator could be heard. Steve hadn't answered you by the time you took out all the contents that you were looking for and shut the door of it. You caught him staring into the abyss, he was biting his finger unconsciously.

You banged the refrigerator’s door shut loudly to snap his attention back to you. Steve turned to the source of the sound with surprise. His gaze fell on all the ingredients that you had placed on the counter. There were fruits, there was milk and other things.

“My mother used to make me this wonderful, delicious smoothie to make me feel better when I was sick or having a headache,” you started as you went about making the smoothie.

Steve narrowed his eyes at you. He was trying to make sense of what you were doing.

“What?”

“I am making this smoothie for you. You might feel better after you drink it,” you said as you chopped the fruits in front of him.

“Why?”

You giggled at him. “You said your head was aching, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but, for me… why would you want to make me feel better?” He sounded uneasy.

He preferred it when you weren’t complying and helpful, that way it was easier to hurt you without feeling guilt.

“Well, I... I don’t despise you, Steve. I still have faith in the Jekyll in you. This is just a small, meaningless gesture to help the good man,” you said, sweetly.

“The Jekyll in me? You believe that I have a Jekyll side and a Hyde side?” He asked in confusion.

“Yes, and I think that you think so too,” you said.

Steve took a sharp breath. You could see him contemplating your words in his mind. He slowly nodded at whatever conclusion that he had reached.

“And what if I become all Mr. Hyde?” He asked all seriously.

“Then who will save the world?”

Steve went quiet again. You were making him think too much.

“Tch. Don’t think too much on it, Steve. It was just a metaphor. And this is just a smoothie for just a headache,” you told him.

He wasn’t very convinced. There was a sad expression on his face. 

“Uh, Steve? I want to order some food, you want some?”

“Ah, okay,” he said, awkwardly.

“And also, can you order it with my phone? I am busy with this, you know,” you said, pointing at the fruits and the blender that you were working with.

Steve looked at you with uncertainty. You handed your phone to him and resumed making the smoothie. A few minutes later you found Steve standing in a paused position while gazing at your phone with utter confusion and frustration. You furrowed your brows at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Um, how do I-? What do I do? I don’t know how to use this,” he said with agitation.  He seemed a bit ashamed.

“Oh.” You knew he was old, but you didn’t know he struggled with technology. It was a bit amusing and cute in a silly way.

“Never mind, I’ll do it myself. I am almost done here,” you told him.

You mixed all the ingredients together in the bender, added the last touches to it before pouring it in a glass for him to drink. He didn’t say so much as a thank you when he took the smoothie from you. Maybe it was because he was so unsure about it. You worried about the taste when he took the first sip.

“How is it?”

Steve nodded his head and licked his lips. “It’s good,” he complimented.

“Well, let’s move to the living room while we wait for the food to arrive,” you said, walking ahead of him.

Steve finished the smoothie within a few minutes and set the glass down on the coffee table. You sat anxious on the couch while he occupied the single seater adjacent to you.

“How does your head feel?” You asked him, trying to fill the cold air between you with any substance.

“It’s alright. I don’t think normal smoothies can work on someone like me,” he commented.

“Oh, well,” you sighed. Then you thought of a way to help him with that.

“I can give you a head massage, I have been told that I am good at it,” you suggested.

You hopped up behind him before he could argue that. Pressing your finger tips to his temples, you directed his head backwards.  You felt that you were getting a bit ahead of yourself, but you just couldn’t sit still beside him.

Steve had a frown on his face, but he didn’t question you just yet. The smooth and strong movement of yours fingers was indeed relaxing.

“I have always wondered how things were like in those times, your time,” you popped a conversation.

“The war times?” Steve asked.

“I can imagine those times must be stressful. How about before that? When things were somewhat better,” you said as you massaged his scalp.“Things weren’t better for me. I was weak and frail then. I wanted to fight, but I couldn’t,” he told you.

It was hard to picture Steve ever being weak and vulnerable.

“It was so heroic of you, to want to fight even the way you were. But it was your spirit that made you worthy of being what you are today,” you said.

You saw his shoulders strain and his body tense. Steve clearly did not want a reminder of who he was then and what he had become now. But you were eager to press, forgetting the line between spite and carefulness.

“We never got to talk about your older self. I am curious to know what drove you to be so courageous, so brave that you wanted to join the war despite of your weak self?” You slowly brought your hands down to massage the back of his neck.

“I wanted to help. I wanted to stop the bad guys and save the world,” he said in a deeper voice.“You did your best, Steve. The world is so grateful. They all are proud of who you are.”

Steve went quiet and stiff. You sensed the tension build up in him. You were about to pull away your hand from his neck when he grabbed your wrist and hauled you forward. Your arm twisted and your back collided with the edge of the coffee table.

Before you could even scream in pain Steve’s large wrapped around your throat and squeezed at it.

“What are you trying to do, doctor?” He grunted. His face was red with rage.

You couldn’t speak. Your lungs were begging for oxygen and you tried to claw his hand away but to no avail. You had pressed him too much. Through teary eyes you pleaded him to stop.

“Are you trying to get in my head? I think you knew better than that by now,” he said through gritted teeth as he crushed your wind pipe.

“S-Steve, p-please, I-I,” you choked out.

Tears spilled from your eyes and onto his hand. You tried to shake your head at him, but your neck won’t move properly in his tight grip. Steve loosened his grip on you a little to let you speak.

“I only want to help, nothing else. I promise,” you croaked.

Steve choked you again, pulling you closer to his face by your neck.

“Don’t try to help me, doctor. You cannot help me,” he said in your face.

“I’m sorry. Please, just let me go. I don’t mean any harm.”

Steve laughed at that. “You cannot harm me even if you wanted to, doc. But you annoy me so much when you try to talk to me. I should just snap your throat!” He growled and began strangling you with more force than before.

The expression on his face had never been so scary. You feared that he really was going to kill you. But your saviour was the doorbell, or rather the delivery guy, which snapped Steve out of his rage ride and release your throat. He tossed you aside on the floor with disappointment.

“You’re a mess,” he said, looking at your crying and coughing state. “I’ll have to go.”

Your inner dam broke and you wept intensely the moment Steve left. You had been too optimistic and it nearly killed you. For that you cursed yourself. You dreaded that he’ll kill you when he comes back. There won’t be a way to save yourself.

Your eyes flashed on his cell phone that was kept on the coffee table. It was an outdated flip phone. You panted as you stared at it, thinking about picking it up and calling one of his Avenger or S.H.I.E.L.D. friends. They’d have to believe you, they’d have to come save you.

But his footsteps were already coming back, you didn’t have a chance here. Steve marched back into the living room and dumped the food packages on the coffee table. You stood up and backed away from Steve as he came near you. He was pleased to see your frightened and weak form back again.

“You are lucky that the guy came. I would have killed you,” he taunted.

Steve reached for you, but you flinched away from him. You were shivering violently. Anxiety made your legs feel wobbly. He didn’t have trouble catching you in the second attempt. He grabbed your head and pushed you face first into the nearest wall.

“At least, I can fuck you,” he growled into your ear as he began tearing your jeans.

You squealed and squirmed between him and the wall. Like always you could do nothing else but accept defeat and let Steve have his way.

The first intrusion burnt through your dry walls. You were not even a little prepared for sex this time. Steve’s hands travelled up to rip off your shirt so he could knead your breasts freely. He groaned directly into your ear, his hot breath tickled your skin, but not in a good way. His larger body kept your smaller one pinned on the wall easily. You felt suffocated.

Steve’s thrusts were violent, your screams and cries were as loud too.

“You’re gonna alert the neighbours like that, (y/n). We don’t want that happening, do we?” He panted.

Your response was a pathetic gasp. Alerting your neighbours was hardly a concern to you. Like they would be able to help you in anyway. If they came then Steve would find a convenient way of fleeing the scene then showing up later, acting as the concerned and heartbroken man whose fault at most would be not being able to catch your rapist that was supposedly out on the loose.

It was Steve whose nerve’s your screams got on. He stopped inside you abruptly and pulled out of you. He spun your frail body around and pinned your back against the wall. You had no control over the way Steve lifted your body, wrapped your thighs around his waist and impaled you again. Being face to face, he could clamp your mouth shut with one hand. That was as good as getting choked because his hand was so large that it covered your nostrils too.

Steve had no regard for how your eyes went dim and your body stopped moving due to the lack of air. He was busy chasing his own pleasure. Soon you passed out, you were thankful for that.

You woke hours later, when the night had passed and sunshine penetrated your bedroom’s windows. Your body was sore, all your muscles were aching. There were large, red handprints on your throat accompanied by a number of fresh bite marks and bruises around your neck and chest. Drops of tears shed from your puffy eyes You stifled a sob. Somehow the aftermath always managed to feel worse than the actual experience. You had new memories to add to your nightmare and trauma album.

You tried to get up from the bed, but something pulled you back. That was when you came to notice his thick arm wrapped around the mid of your body. Your heart began pounding in its cage. Your breathing became laboured. This was far from the first time that you had woken up next to Steve, but it was the first time you woke up encased in his arms. His head rested against yours. The warmth of his body radiated into you.

Before last night happened, this was something you had been had been expecting and looking forward to. It was to be a sign of making him comfortable with you as you had decided. But all you could feel now was revulsion and an aching need to not be in his presence anymore. You were desperate to run away.

Your patience was wearing off. Steve’s response maybe desirable but accompanied with his heated moments you’d die before you are able to get in his head. And judging by last night’s episode you couldn’t just rely on that if you had any hope of escaping him. No, you’ll have to do more than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a shorter chapter and maybe not as good as the first two....but I have some plans for the future so bare with me.
> 
> Also I want to end this story before Endgame releases because if something happens to Steve I won't be able to write him like this anymore :'(  
> Hope he lives! Hope everyone lives!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY for the late update!! I have had a shit load of work to do in these last weeks and did not get any time to write and post this.  
> But it's here now. Thanks for waiting! :)

You were afraid of him waking up, afraid to meet the monster who almost killed you. Steve's shifting beside you alerted you that he was about to rise. His arm wrapped around your waist tugged you into him. Your whole body became tense.

Steve's breath fell on your neck as he lifted himself on his side. You clenched your eyes shut, pretending to be asleep as he leaned over to look at you, you weren't sure why. It was hard to contain the shivers that ran down your body when you felt his fingers graze against the skin of your neck. They brushed over his own hand prints.

You expected him to wrap his hand on your throat once again and choke you out, but all he did was touch the marks gently. His breathing got heavy and you assumed that he was getting horny. But Steve suddenly retracted his fingers from you and jumped out of the bed. You were curious to turn your around and see what he was doing, but you didn't want to wake in his presence.

You heard the fumbling of clothes followed by his heavy footfalls marching out of the room. When you finally gathered up the courage to open your eyes you found him gone, out of your room and out of your house.

There was a rush in the way he had left your house, as if he had remembered something important or been driven out. You wondered if he was disappointed to find himself cuddling your form.

At the least you were just glad that he left you alone for the time being. You took your sore body to the bathroom to scrub his sensation off of yourself. You felt extremely nauseated by the thoughts of last night’s events.

You thought about how Steve was wrapped around you so comfortably. He had struggled with that notion to start with and in some way was still struggling given by the way he ran out. But even if he didn't want to admit it, he was growing closer to you in more than one way. You were counting on these responses to progress into something softer until he saw the true hideousness of what he had become and left you alone. But what happened yesterday made you feel a little more hopeless.

In the mirror you saw just how prominent the hand prints and bite marks were on your neck and collar bones. You'd have to wear a scarf to not let other people see it. It made you tremble just thinking about the night's event. You had never had such a close to death experience before. It was crazy how you were living, always on the edge, always in danger, always like a prey waiting to be swallowed whole by your predator.

You spent another day, locked in your house, powering through the mental break downs with the help of alcohol. You wondered if you'd ever make it ever out of this or was this your whole life now, stuck being Steve's fuck toy till he decides to get rid of you, permanently.

As the night approached, you felt the fear creep in you. The fear of him returning. Steve usually came between gaps of at least 3-4 days, but he could be unpredictable at times. You hoped this wasn't that sort of day. And luckily, it wasn’t.

You got one night of peace during which you distracted yourself by diverting your thoughts from Steve to your life and job. You needed to go back to work if you needed the money keep coming in. You were nowhere near a good enough mental state to provide any therapy to others, but staying in your house was suffocating. It constantly reminded you of him and never made you feel safe like it should have.  So, you contacted all your patients and told them about their appointments, except Steve of course.

 

Steve came to you after two days. It was almost 11 at night and you were about to sleep when he rang the bell. You dreaded his arrival like you always did. But for a change his eyes were not ravenous on you. He looked stressed and tired as he entered your house. You let him come inside without a protest.

"So, I -I guess I went a bit overboard that day," Steve sighed.

You paused on your feet and spun around on your heels to face him. Your brows arching at him.

"What?" You asked with disbelief.

Steve's eyes dropped to your neck where the faint red and purple prints of his hand were still visible. You saw the sorry look in his eyes. It surprised you.

"Do you feel regret?" You asked.

Steve did not answer that. He stepped towards you and you stepped back, warily.

"I wouldn't want to kill you," he said.

His eyes ran over your body.

"I am not that far gone," he added.

Whether that was a consolation to you or himself, you didn't know.

Steve backed you up against a wall, hands placed at either side of you to keep you trapped in. You gulped, looking at him with fear.

Why weren't his actions synonymous with what he was trying to say? Why when he expressed guilt and regret did you only feel like you were being more and more pulled in?

He gently brushed your bruised throat with his knuckles. You could only shiver though his touch was soft and tender.

"Plus, you are so useful to me," he said as he leaned into you.

You closed your eyes when you felt his lips touch your skin. The anticipation of his teeth already made your breath hitch. But the teeth never came. In fact, Steve was peppering kisses on your neck, tracing the line of his fingers with his lips and tongue. There was nothing aggressive about what he was doing. Intimidating, but not violent.

It was a strange thing, like he was a father kissing his child's boo boos. Only that relation did not fit with the situation at all as he was the one to give you the boo-boos in the first place. Neither did you feel better with your boo-boos kissed.

You'd rather he just apologise and promise you not do so again than turning it into something sexual. You were glad that he realized and admitted his faults sooner than you expected him to, at least some of them, but you were not sure that you wanted this.

"S-Steve," you called him, pushing a hand against his chest.

You were hoping that he'd let you be, this time.

Steve pulled away from your neck and looked into your eyes. You could see that he was sexually charged now. He took your hand by the wrist and pushed it aside.

"Don't fight me," he whispered to you.

Then he did something even more baffling. He came forward and locked his lips with yours. Your eyes widened at that. Steve had never kissed you before. He had made sure everything was as raw, as detached and as animalistic as possible.

Was this progress? Maybe. But not exactly the one you wanted.

You resisted his kiss at first, but he was unrelenting with the way he tried to forced his tongue into your mouth. Eventually he won like he always did and claimed you in another way he had not before.The kiss was hungry, passionate and rough. You could barely catch a breath.  

You weren't sure what to focus on. His hot and wild tongue in your mouth or his hands that ran like fire on your body. Steve was undressing you easily while keeping you busy with his mouth. Boy, was he efficient. If it weren't for your situation, you would have enjoyed his good kissing skills.

Soon you were naked from waist down for him. You felt the cold air brush against your slick entrance. One of his hands reached in between your legs and started playing with your clit. You squirmed and moaned into his mouth. This was pleasure that you did not want.

Steve pulled away from your mouth briefly and you got a chance to catch your breath.

"Undress me," he told you.

Your reply was muffled by his mouth. He guided your hesitant hands towards his shirt. Your fingers trembled over the buttons of his shirt. This was your first time stripping him. Steve preferred to do it himself before.

"Quicker," he panted over your lips.

You did your best to work on the buttons and pulled off the fabric over his broad shoulders, given your state of mind. Next, he told you to undo his pants which you did. You were going to let him have this, whatever this was. It wasn't like you could refuse.

As soon as his pants were off, he removed himself from you and discarded all your upper clothing. Steve did not look into your eyes when he picked you up and wrapped your thighs around his waist. Your wet lower lips rubbed over his hard on.

Steve latched his lips onto yours again as he began walking towards the staircase. You clung on to him, wrapping your arms around his neck to prevent yourself from falling. Although his grip over your body was strong enough to keep you both steady.

You smoothed your hands over the muscles on his back and kissed him back. You weren't proud of it, you were just giving in to what little generosity he was providing. It was in both of your best interests to make him feel like he was doing good.

The way you two were tangled with each other, someone could mistake this for a passionate love making. You knew that it was just denial and pretence and something depraved. Probably, Steve didn't or he did not care.

Steve deposited you to your bed and positioned himself between your legs. But instead of entering you he just rubbed his length over your slit. You moaned as he took your nipples into his hot mouth. Your body was burning with need.

You were surprised to find him kissing and licking his way down to your nether regions instead of just filling you up with himself right away. Once down there, Steve set your thighs on his broad shoulders and came face to face with your core. His hot breath brushed against it and you squirmed with discomfort.

Steve kissed his way from your inner thighs up to your pussy where he latched his lips on your clit. You found yourself bucking your hips into his mouth. But you fought with your body and reached forward to push his head away.

"Steve, you don't have to," you said.

He never gave you oral sex before and you didn't want him giving it you now. You didn't want to associate anymore pleasure with his actions than need be.

Steve pushed your upper body down and shushed you before he resumed his work on your sex. His tongue lapped at you hungrily. You shuddered when his tongue plunged into you. Somehow, he knew exactly how to roll it inside you to get you moaning and writhing.

Your fingers clung on to the bed sheet as Steve gave you pleasure that you didn't desire. The sensation was overwhelming. But it felt undeniably good. Too good. You clenched your thighs around his head and bucked your hips at him as you came undone all over his face with a loud moan. Your climax already made you feel so exhausted.

As you overcame the aftershocks of the beautiful orgasm you had just experienced, Steve propped himself up on his hands to look down at the hot mess that was you. He held your hip with one hand and gave you a soft slap on your cheek with the other to pull you back from your hazy state.

"Beg me to fuck you," he ordered, his dick already prodding at your entrance.

You stared at him with defiant eyes and shook your head. You were not so eager to beg him for something you never wanted all along.

Steve pressed a threatening thumb at the base of your neck and gave your breast a painful squeeze.

"Beg me," he said through clenched teeth.

You held in your pride as you opened your lips for him. "Fuck me."

"More," he said as he began his ministrations on your breasts.

His fingers did their work between your legs, getting you more and more aroused and wanton.

"Fuck me, please," you squeaked for him, unwillingly.

That was all it took him to plunge his aching cock into you. The slickness made the intrusion much easier than before. You clenched your sensitive walls around him as he rubbed all the right places in you.

For the first time you felt so sexually aroused for him, even if you did not want it. Steve pumped in slowly to start with, letting you feel him inside of you. He gave you all the stimulations that you needed to come closer to another orgasm. His mouth sucked on your nipple while his fingers rubbed your clit. You were twitching and writhing underneath him, trying to hold off your moans.

Steve upped his pace slowly. He leaned on the bed on one arm and dipped his head down to give you a kiss which you returned. For the first time your nails scraped at his back instead of his chest. You bit your lip. Everything was so overwhelming. The way you tightened around him and the way you mewled told him that you were about to cum.

The mean man that he was, he pulled out before you could have the satisfaction. You closed your legs around nothing and twisted your mouth at the loss. Steve picked you up and rolled underneath you so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed while you straddled him.

You had never ridden him before and you weren't sure if you were up to the task, but it wasn't like you had much of a choice. Steve lowered you down on to himself until you had fully sheathed his cock.

"Ride me," he whispered into your ear.

He gave you a push by lifting your hips up and bringing you down. But soon you took the charge. You placed your hands on his shoulder for support and began bouncing on his length.

Steve began sucking at your neck and chest. He'd occasionally kiss your mouth, and it'd be a hot and rough kiss. This felt better as it was painless. You could actually feel yourself enjoying this for a change.

There was conflict in your heart, but you kept it at bay. You concentrated more on doing this for Steve and his conscience, and then for yourself and your pleasure.

Your toes curled and your whole body vibrated as you came over him.

"Steve," you moaned, shamelessly.

Your energy drained out and you began slouching on him. Your body was ready for rest. But Steve wasn't done yet.

Seeing that you weren't capable of going on your own, he flipped you back so that he was on top again so that he could fuck you in earnest.

The feeling of him thrusting through your oversensitive walls built up a third orgasm in you. You bit your lip hard, trying to subside it. Steve took your lip from you and sucked at it.

"Don't hold it in, (y/n). Let it out," he encouraged you.

Just like that you came a third time and then a fourth until you couldn't take it anymore and passed out

That was one of the many strange steamy nights to come your way. And while the pleasure was unparalleled, it was troublesome too. For Steve had certainly showed some change in his behaviour, but not completely to your satisfaction.

Steve had grown accustomed to holding you while sleeping whenever he got his nightmares. His desire to see you in pain had not gone, he still needed that to derive his carnal pleasure. You'd never know now when he'd get rough on you, throw you against walls, pound into you without any care of your pleasure or will, close his hands around your neck just enough to get you on the edge of losing consciousness and of course, leave his marks on you. You'd be sore and aching the next days.

He had become more friendly with the riding crop that he loved to use on you. It always satisfied him while never damaging you too much.

Steve was breaking down the guilt factor by being nice to you on some days and in return taking what he wanted on the others. He also talked less to you now, probably to avoid confrontation. He'd jump right into sex whenever he came to you and would leave no room for anything else.

You grew worried and tired more and more every day. He was like a parasite clinging to you and you could not find a way to get rid of him. Steve had gotten comfortable with the rhythm of softening on you when he thought he had gotten too rough, and likewise roughing you up when he needed to. The conflict in his mind was there, but pushed back into some corner. He no longer kept himself from anything.

Your frustrations grew as you saw your chances of getting out become slimmer. There was little you could do if you couldn't get to him through your words and if he decided within himself that what was doing wasn't so bad. You needed to look for other ways.

Meanwhile, you had return to your work. Even with your tired and unfit mental and physical health, you forced yourself to work as you needed the distraction and the money to keep your life running.

It was during one of those therapy sessions that you worked out the plan of installing hidden cameras in your house. You thought that if you could capture his actions with you in a video and present it as evidence to someone, the police or the Avengers then maybe they'd believe you and be ready to help you.

You hired the help of one of your patients who you knew was into tech to do the job for you. He was ready to give you a favour and be secretive about it too.

Your heart raced with uncertainty as the patient more than willingly installed the small cameras into your house and explained their operation to you. There was this fear that Steve would find out, he'd know the moment he stepped in, and when that happens you won't live to take another breath.

A part of you said that your expectations were stupid, that it was foolish to think that you’d ever rid yourself of Steve, unless it was he who decides to leave. But you had to try, you had to. Because you weren’t sure that you could handle the trauma and the pain for any longer.

 

A few nights later Steve came back to your house. You had been waiting for him. He had a feverish energy to him that told you that Steve was ready to get into action straight away.

He didn’t even say anything, not a fake hello or hi, instead he just shoved you inside the house and barged his way in. You got the vibe that this was going to one of those rough nights. But for once you were ready for it.

Steve tried to reach for you, but you shifted away from him. You made him follow you into the living room where the cameras were hidden.

“Maybe not tonight, Steve. I feel so tired,” you said.

Steve sighed at your useless attempt to get him to stop you. He pulled you into his body by your arm.

“I thought you were past that, (y/n). You know that I don’t care for whatever reason you give me,” he said as his lips brushed over the skin of your shoulder and neck.

Your back was pressed up against his front and you could feel his hard on through your shirt. You squirmed in his hold to try and break free from it.

“Please, not tonight,” you begged.

Steve ignored you and shoved a hand under your shirt. You doubled your effort by digging your elbows into his ribs and abdomen. While that did not hurt him, it did irritate him. He pushed you off himself in a rough motion, making you land on the carpeted floor.

“Why are you being so difficult? What has gotten into you?” He asked you.

You glared up at him, but you couldn’t bring the words to your mouth.

Steve pulled off his shirt from himself and dropped to his knees before you. You tried to lift yourself up from the floor, but Steve brought you down by your leg. You wriggled and kicked your legs about as he laid you beneath himself. He easily seized your movements by sitting on top your thighs.

“Get off me!”

You thrashed your hands at him. Steve caught both your hands and pinned them beside your head. He leaned down so that his face hovered only inches above yours.

“What’s wrong, doc? Why are you provoking me to be aggressive with you?” He asked, bringing his lips closer to yours.

You turned your face away from him. “I don’t want this,” you grunted.

Steve grabbed your jaw in a painful hold and turned your face back towards him.

“You were smarter when you gave in to me easily. But I don’t mind breaking you down once again,” he whispered, his hot breath falling on your face.

With that he ripped away your shirt from your person. Steve dragged his lips from your jaw line to your neck where he began scrapping your skin with his teeth. You winced when his teeth sank in your sensitive skin. Tears spilled down your cheeks and sank into the carpet.

One of his hands kneaded your breasts roughly. You pushed up against him in an attempt to get him off you, but his weight was heavy and did not give you any chance of escape. He brought his hand down to your hips to pull down your pants in one rough tug. Next, he ripped away your panties, leaving you bare for him.

You tried to close your legs, but he parted them easily. He always did. Steve rubbed his cloth erection against your sex.

“Stop,” you protested, weakly.

You knew that he won’t stop.

“Come on. There was more fire in you before,” Steve taunted you.

Steve quickly undid his jeans and took out his hardened cock. None of his touches had made you ready to take him this time. He did not intend them to. You gasped at the burning pain when he entered you.

He locked a hand around your throat as he began pounding into you. The digging of your nails into his hand never made him relent, it only made him tighten his fingers around your air passage till you couldn’t even feel him move inside of you. But he always let go just before you were at the verge of losing your senses and becoming numb. He’d give you time to regain your consciousness and become slowly aware of the pain that you were in, but before you could protest or do anything about it, he’d choke you again.

Steve did that until you lost all fight and was free to fuck you without any interruptions. There were no orgasms for you, only for him. After he was done, he left you on the ground like a discarded toy. You were left alone to deal with the remnants of him seeping from between your legs.

You cried, but at least it was over, and at least you had it all recorded now.

 

***

 

Though you had recorded proof of Steve’s assault on you, you still were apprehensive of what the outcome would be if you actually showed it to someone. You had successfully obtained a few phone numbers from Steve’s mobile while he was fast asleep after fucking you one night. All you needed was to call the person he knew, who would preferably be close to Steve, and tell them what Steve had been up to. After that, as you hoped, they’d make him stop and they’d take him away from you forever.

You tried the numbers while sitting behind your office desk. None of the calls were picked up, until one was. It was saved by the name of ‘Coulson’ on Steve’s phone and you remembered Steve mentioning this name once when he was listing the deaths of the people he knew during one of your therapy sessions. Needless to say, you were surprised and confused to have the supposedly dead man pick up your call, but you knew that this probably was one of the unexplainable things that the Avengers were involved in.

“Hello? Who is this?” A male voice asked.

“Hello, is this Mr. Coulson that I am talking to?”

“Ah- yes, but who is this and how did you get my number?” He sounded sceptical.

“I am Doctor (f/n) (l/n). I am a therapist and I have been treating one of your friends named Steve Rogers. Are you in contact with him?”

“Captain’s therapist? That’s odd. Why are you calling me?”

“Sir, I have to discuss something very private and important related to Steve’s mental health. Now Steve did not really give me an idea of whom I should contact in cases of emergencies. So, I would like to know if you are the right person, and if I should be discussing all this with. What is your relation with him exactly?” you said, sounding as professional as you could. 

“Ah, you could say that we are colleagues, sort of. I think we are friends. You should ask Captain that. I cannot speak on his behalf. But I am in close contact with him if that’s any assurance. I could also ask him-”

“No! No! You mustn’t tell the patient about this at any cost. It could prove to be harmful for his health. Please, you must not tell Steve about this,” you practically begged.

 

You couldn’t even imagine what Steve would do to you if he got to know of what you were up to.

“Oh, alright, doctor. If you say so. What is it that you need to talk about?” Coulson asked.

“I have reasons to believe that Steve’s behaviour may be harmful for those around him and if not stopped now he may lose control and actually end up hurting someone. The rest I will have to tell to you in person as it is a very private matter and I am already breaching the boundaries of doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“Harmful behaviour? Steve Rogers? Are you sure that you are talking about the right person, miss?”

“Yes! I know Steve displays an idealistic, righteous and gentle persona, but I am his doctor and through my sessions with him I have discovered important information that should not be ignored at any cost. Please, heed my warning. It is of utmost importance that you come talk to me,” you urged him.

“Alright, alright, I believe you. I’d be free around 4 or 5 pm tomorrow. We can meet then,” Coulson said.

“Perfect. You can come to my office. I’ll text you my address. And please, do not discuss this with anyone around you, especially not Steve. I could not stress that enough,” you said.

“I get it, doctor. I won’t tell anyone. I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he said, plainly.

“Yes. Thank you,” you replied.

You hadn’t realised that your heart was racing until you ended the call. There was no way you could be sure about this. It was a complete shot in the dark. For all you knew, this man could be as incapable of stopping Steve as you were or as any normal human was. But you were counting on the fact that Steve wouldn’t hurt his colleague, his friend and that he would be forced to face his guilt once someone else shows him what he has become.

That night you spent wide awake, weaving fantasies of a Steve-free future while pushing aside all the bad thoughts that came to your mind about the possible worst-case scenarios.

The next evening you sat restless in your office, waiting for Coulson to come. You had your laptop out and the footages ready. You tried not to get too nervous with the prospect of something bad to happen, because a prominent voice in the back of your mind was telling you that you were about to fuck yourself. But it was too late to back away now.

Someone knocked the door of your office at exactly 5 pm. You went to answer it with shaky legs and sweaty hands. A middle-aged looking man, dressed in a crisp formal suit, appeared at the other end of the door. He gave the whole secret agent vibe.

“Mr. Coulson?”

The man gave a nod and small smile as he stretched his had forward for you to shake.

“Yes, I am Coulson and you are doctor (y/n), right?”

“Yes, please come in,” you said, steering away from the doorway to let him enter.

“I have got to say that this seems very strange and weird to me. Both because I have never been called like this and also because we are talking about Captain America here,” Coulson said as he walked around your office.

You gave him a smile. “I understand. Please have a seat. Can I get you something to drink? Water? Coffee? I also have wine.”

“No, no, I am fine. I would just like to discuss the main matter here. You sounded pretty serious yesterday,” Coulson said.

You went around your desk to sit at your chair. “Yes, because it is a pretty serious matter, Mr. Coulson, and I do hope that you are the right person to discuss this with.”

“I think so,” Coulson replied.

“I would need something more than that because you would need to take some steps to handle Steve and his behaviour after we are done talking. Do you think that you are up to that task, Mr Coulson?”

Coulson’s ‘yes’ was not very reassuring. You sighed, not understanding if what you were doing was right or not. But this was pretty much your best chance.

“Okay. So, what I am about to do is a potential breach of my doctor-patient confidentiality with Steve, but I am allowed to do so in cases such as this. I’d dive straight into it. What I am about to tell you is going to sound a bit ridiculous, unbelievable, but please bear with me.”

Coulson’s expressions turned more and more grave with every word that you said. The heroic image of Steve in his mind was being stained and it wasn’t settling well with him. It was difficult for you too to break down exactly what had happened between you and Steve to a person whom you just met. Things became particularly nasty and uncomfortable when it came to describing the dirty details of your encounters with Steve and then showing him the videos too.

His face remained stone like as he saw and heard what Steve did to you. You felt a sickness rise in your stomach as you sat in front him, making random man watch your most humiliating and intimate moments with Steve. He had his hand clasped over his mouth by the time the video ended.

“I know it’s a bit overwhelming. Take your time to digest it,” you told him.

Coulson sucked in his lips and shook his head at you. He took out the USB drive from your laptop without your permission and held it in front of him.

“Have you shown this to anyone else? The cops or a friend?”

You furrowed your brows. “Uh, no I haven’t. You are the only one I have shown this to yet.”

“I see,” he sighed.

He rubbed his chin and stared away into nothing as if he was thinking about something. You felt uneasy.

“Listen, I won’t show it to the cops or anyone. I don’t care if he gets arrested or convicted or not. I just want you to stop him. You can do that right?” Your voice was broken and soft.

Coulson did not respond. He seemed to be too lost in his thoughts and you weren’t getting a good feeling about it.

“Mr. Coulson!” You shouted to get his attention.

“Hmm? Oh yes, yes. I will do it,” he said as he stepped up on his feet.

You stood up too. “Are you sure? Please don’t try to talk to him about this unless you are completely sure that you will be able to handle his reaction. He is extremely volatile and can even come to hurt you.”

Coulson nodded, his eyes were fixed on the USB drive.

“I understand. I’ll have to take this with me for examination purposes. I need to have the evidence too before I take any action,” he explained to you.

You were doubtful of him, yet you agreed.

Coulson hurried to the door of your office. By the thin sheen of sweat forming on his face and the fast-paced steps, you could sense an urgency in his behaviour.

“Mr. Coulson, Steve would require to visit another doctor. You’ll have to see to that. You’ll have to handle all this very carefully or it’ll just worsen his mental health,” you said as you walked him out of the office.

Coulson nodded. “Doctor (y/n), is this the only copy of the footages you have?” He asked you.

You were almost about to say no when you said yes.

“Good, we wouldn’t want something like this lying around where anyone can find it,” he justified.

With that you were sure that you had made a mistake, a brutal mistake. Coulson clearly was not concerned with the trauma that you went through neither with the harmful behaviour of Steve. His concern was more related to protecting Steve’s image. For all you knew, he already had told Steve that he was coming here.

 _What have I done?_ You thought to yourself.

“Y-Yes,” you whispered.

Coulson smiled at you as he gave you a playful pat on the shoulder.

“Do not worry, doctor (y/n). I will see to it that your problem is resolved,” he assured you.

But you did not believe it. His tone was so fake. You found it difficult to breathe once Coulson had left. Your body was trembling just from the anticipation of what was to come.

You had been stupid to do this in the first place. You had let desperation get the better of you, and trusted someone who clearly was more inclined to help Steve than you.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You paced about your room with your head in your hand.

Coulson would surely inform Steve and that be the endgame for you. You punched your hand at your desk from the frustration. But it was no time to cry then. It was the time to make a final run for it.

From the window of your office you could see Coulson still standing below your office. He was in a deep conversation with someone who probably was Steve. You needed to hurry.

You quickly grabbed your purse, your smartphone and your car keys and rushed downstairs to your car. Avoiding Coulson was tricky as he was standing just near where your car was parked, so you had to wait for him to turn his back to you before you could dash towards your black sedan.

The trembling of your hands made it difficult for you to insert the key in the ignition. Coulson had become aware of your presence by the time you managed to do it. You could see him marching towards you in the side view mirror. That was your cue to start the car and drive it out of the parking lot.

Coulson was trying to shout something at you to get you to stop. But you didn’t. You saw him running towards his car and soon you had him on your tail. He pressed his car’s horn multiple times as he chased after you.

You drove recklessly, hardly paying attention to the cars and people that came in your way. The state of panic clouded all your thoughts. You had never felt such a paranoia before. Your eyes darted back and forth from the road to Coulson’s car in the rear-view mirror. No matter what turn you took he was still behind you.

In the middle of all that your smartphone began ringing and Steve’s name displayed on the screen. That just made matters worse.

“Fuck. No,” you whimpered.

It was all too much to take and you were beginning to lose control on the wheel. Between your driving and checking for Coulson’s car on your tail, you did not know when another car came in front of yours. You were forced to make a sharp steer to the left to avoid hitting the other car, and you ended up crashing into a tree.

All of it happened so fast. The front of your car collided violently with the tree, your windshield cracked and bits of glass pieces flew towards you, piercing the skin on your face. Your head hit the inflated air bag and then bounced back, hitting the car seat.

There was a sharp ringing that echoed in your ears that muffled all the sounds around you. Your vision became blurry as you came on the verge of losing your consciousness. Even in that state you felt someone open the door of your car. You could only figure out the hazy dark silhouette of a man.

Somewhere at the back of your mind, a voice reminded you of the danger that you were in and that you need to run. But before you could take any action, the figure raised an object in its hand a hit the side of your head with it.

The pain was fleeting as everything turned black in front of your eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coulson's timeline is a bit blurry to me in the MCU and in the comics. However, I readjusted his character to fit my story line.
> 
> I don't know if this was good or not as this chapter goes a bit differently than previous ones, but I hope you liked it :)


	5. Chapter 5

The faint noise of chatter fell on your ears, rousing you from your sleepy state. You opened your eyes slowly and found your vision blurry. Your head felt heavy and your body felt sore too.   
  
There was a sound of clicking coming from in front of you where you could see someone standing, but it took you a few seconds to recognise who it was.  
  
"Can you hear me? Can you hear my voice?" You heard Coulson speak.  
  
There was a dull ache in your heart that you couldn't connect to at first. But as your senses become less fuzzy, things started coming back to you. You jerked back from Coulson only to find that you couldn't move freely. Something was keeping your hands tied down and when you looked at them, you saw that they were cuffed to a metallic table. You thrashed your hands about but you couldn't free them.  
  
"You should undo her cuffs. It's not like she can do us any harm," you heard a man speak from the corner of the room.  
  
Your eyes shot at the second man. He had a serious expression on his handsome face, he sported a mohawk hair style and his blue eyes were fixed on you. His mysterious aura sent chills down your spine.  
  
You quickly turned your head away from him, examining the rest of the small room for any signs of Steve, but to your relief he was not there.  
  
The room was not a big one. It was made of grey walls and the only objects kept in it were the table that you were bound to and the chair on which you were sitting on. Both of them were made of metal. A bright white light was situated just above your head and it illuminated the whole small space. It felt as if you were trapped in some kind of interrogation room.  
  
Coulson freed your hands from the cuffs as you tried to not burn down in a panic attack. You remembered everything that happened to you before, meeting Coulson in your office, figuring out that he was going to sell you out, getting chased by him in your car and then finally crashing it. You didn't remember, nor did you think you were conscious to know what had happened after your car crashed. All that you knew was that whatever happened, nothing good was to come of it.  
  
You pulled your hands into your chest and began eyeing the door, analysing your chances of making it out of it. The mohawk haired man stepped in between and obstructed your view of the door, likewise diminishing your hopes of escaping.    
  
You were locked in this room with these two men, only one of them whom you recognised. Their eyes were sharp on you, judgemental, as if you had committed a crime.  
  
"Where- where am I?" You asked in a whisper.  
  
"You don't need to know, not for now at least," Coulson answered, simply.  
  
You looked at him with disbelief.  
  
"You told him, didn't you? You were supposed to help me! You were supposed to-"  
  
“He wasn’t supposed to do anything for you. Whatever he did was right,” the other man cut in between.  
  
You turned your glistening eyes at him. “Who are you now?”  
  
“You can call me Clint. I am an Avenger just like Steve, and I may not possess his superhuman strength, but I assure you that I am just as deadly,” he threatened as he came closer to you, leaning forward over the table.  
  
You swallowed the knot forming in your throat and diverted your eyes from him. Threats of violence had become all too familiar to you by now, but you did not think that you’d be hearing them from people other than Steve, that too another Avenger.  
  
“I see,” you started with a broken voice. “So, what is the point of this? Shouldn’t you or Steve have killed me already?”  
  
Coulson smiled at you. “Cheer up, we are not about to kill you. I cannot say about what Steve will do, but he is not here for the time being so you can relax.”  
  
“Then why am I here? Just a sitting duck until Steve comes back?” You asked.  
  
Clint and Coulson exchanged an uneasy glance before the latter answered you.  
  
“Many reasons actually. Firstly, to keep you out of the cops' grasps so that no suspicion is raised regarding your incident. Secondly, I have got my men searching your house for other such evidences,” Coulson said, waving your USB drive in front of your face. “And thirdly, to give you a fair warning before we let you go.”  
  
You let out a small chuckle at his last sentence. There was no need to give you a warning, you were terrified enough.   
  
“This is no laughing matter, doctor,” Clint said.  
  
You glared at him. “Oh, tell me about it.”  
  
Clint sighed with frustration and you could not believe that this man was acting as if he was more stressed than you were.  
  
“Doctor, let’s get to the point. We have already discussed all this with Steve, and though I sympathise with you-"  
  
“Oh, fuck your sympathy!” You spat at them, slamming your hands down on the table.   
  
They let that one slide. Coulson jumped right back to what he was saying. “We cannot keep Steve from doing what he wishes to do,” he said.  
  
That much you had already seen coming by now. You just couldn’t believe that these guys were actually supporting something so horrible and vile. Weren’t they supposed to protect earth and its people from bad things in the first place?  
  
“So, that’s it then. I am just supposed to lay back and let him do anything he wants with me, rape me, hurt me and maybe even kill me?" You asked in spiteful tone.  
  
“Steve has done a lot for this world. He has gone through a lot from World War I to this. All the death and the loss does that you. I myself have done things that I am not proud of to cope. I won’t let Steve go under the bus for this,” Clint explained.  
  
You stared at him with your mouth agape. His words did nothing to make you feel any better, it was something you knew already. You just couldn’t get it through them that there were other ways to cope than resorting to depraved methods of aggression and violence.  
  
“I never wanted for him to go under the bus. I just wanted you to keep him away from me! I just want to be left alone,” you cried.  
  
“Then why did you lie to me about the footage?”  Coulson questioned you.  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“My men have reported to me that there were other pieces of footage, containing Steve, lying around in your house. When I asked you about it before, you had blatantly lied to me, which means that you were planning to do something with them right? Give it to the cops or release them or something like that,” said Coulson in an accusing tone.  
  
You shook your head at him furiously. “No, no… I was not going to do that. I swear to god!” You realized that it did not look that way to them no matter what you said.  
  
“Doesn’t matter what you were going to do or not. But you won’t be doing anything about it now. We have seen to it that all the evidence is destroyed. The cameras have been taken out of your house too. All you have to do now is never try something like that again. We will be keeping a close eye on you from now on. We have all the information on you and even your family, so you better remain quiet and compliant,” Clint warned you.  
  
He even pulled out a picture of your mother and sister, taken candidly at their house. You were even more appalled than you were before. Now you had to fear for their lives as well as yours.  
  
“My family? They haven’t done anything. They don’t even know! Don’t you bring them into this!” You hissed at him with newfound anger.  
  
“We won’t if you don’t do anything either,” Clint replied, plainly.  
  
“I won’t. I won’t say anything to anyone, just leave them alone,” you pleaded.  
  
“And that includes you not trying to run away too. You’ll stay just where you are right now. Otherwise we’ll hunt you down and you won’t like what comes for you afterwards,” added Coulson.  
  
You nodded, registering all the warnings in your already scared mind. Tears fell from your eyes and stained the jeans that you were wearing. As you looked at your hands settled in your lap, you realised the various small, shallow, red cuts formed on them by the glass shards broken from your car’s windshield. It was something small and relatively harmless, but it still managed to make you feel more broken.  
  
“Well, if everything is clear, you can go back home. My men would have left by the time you reach there,” Coulson told you.  
  
Clint gave you a dark, warning glance before he left the room.  
  
Coulson called a cab for you to return back to your house. Your car was busted and he, at the very least, took the responsibility to get it repaired for you. All that courtesy meant little to you as all that you could concentrate on was Steve and what he will do to you now. You had planned on running away, but they made sure that you won’t even try something like that now that your family’s lives are on the line.  
  
A few minutes into your drive back home, the cab driver asked you what happened to your face. You looked into the rear-view mirror to see the many nicks and cuts that littered your face as well as a large black and blue bruise on the side of your forehead. You had no idea that you were looking this horrifying. One could easily see that you had gone through some tough shit just by the look of your face and your puffy red eyes. But you assured the driver’s doubts by telling him that it was just another car accident.  
  
When you reached your house, you found your door set ajar. You stuck your ear to the door to listen for any movements inside. When you heard none, you proceeded to go in.   
  
You froze at the threshold itself, the house was in whole lot of mess. The cameras had been ripped out and crushed on the floor. Other objects like photo frames, flower vases, expensive show pieces and everything else lay broken on the ground too.  
  
You stepped, slowly, deeper into the house. With every step you could hear the crunching of glass, metal or wood beneath your shoes. As you entered the living room, you saw the coffee table broken, the TV set fallen on the ground and everything else thrown away in the mess as well. It appeared as if a storm had hit your house. They didn’t leave any nook and corner to look for the cameras and the footages and you were sure that the situation was same or worse upstairs.   
  
You cursed yourself at just how foolish you had been to think that you could get out of this that way. You only managed to make your situation worse. At least before you were oblivious to the fact that this could happen, you had some hope of being saved, but now you had nothing. Nothing at all.  
  
Frustration and hopelessness got the better of you as you kicked your foot hard into the broken objects on the floor and let out a loud scream. You crashed on the ground, falling on your butt beside your couch. You held your face in your hands and began bawling your eyes out.  
  
***  
About three days had passed since your encounter with Coulson and Clint. You lived every second dwelling in the dread of Steve coming back and hurting you, but he did not show up until the fourth day.  
  
It was night time and you had forced yourself to prepare dinner as a distraction when you heard the wooden floor of your house creak. Your heart skipped a beat and your body went stiff, you immediately knew that it was him.  
  
Soft thuds stopped behind you and you stopped chopping the vegetables and turned around from the kitchen counter to see Steve standing at the door frame. He wore an expression of betrayal and disbelief. Somehow, he appeared to be more upset than you were.   
  
Your eyes caught sight of the gun that he held in his hand. You sucked in a sharp breath. So, this was going to be it for you. You nodded your head to yourself, accepting your fate, as Steve stepped towards you.  
  
"I have to say that I am disappointed. Hurt even," Steve said in a low, grave voice.  
  
You let out an amused laugh through the mix of emotions that you were feeling.  
  
"I am sorry? _I hurt you_?"   
  
Steve frowned at you.  
  
"I didn't think you'd do something like that. I trusted you to keep it to yourself. But tell my friends out of all?"   
  
Your nerves itched at the way he spoke, like he had any right to make this all about himself.  
  
"Did I manage to embarrass you? Ruin your good image in front of everyone? You are not what they thought you were-"  
  
Steve raised his gun equipped hand and shot at your direction multiple times. You shrunk into yourself from the shock, the firing sounds startled you. None of the bullets penetrated you except one that nicked against the side of your arm.  You wailed in pain, grabbing the bleeding wound with your hand as you sank down to the floor. You didn't want to cry but the pain brought down the tears from your eyes.  
  
Steve came closer and stood over your curled-up body. He stared down at you with disgust.  
  
You opened your mouth to say something, but Steve interrupted you.  
  
"Shut the fuck up," he growled at you as he reached down to pull you back up on your feet.  
  
He held the back of your neck and tilted it back in an awkward position while placing the hot tip of the gun against your temple. You were afraid, yet you looked him in the eyes.  
  
"Go ahead then. Kill me. End this for once and for all," you tempted him.  
  
Steve's jaw twitched. He slid the gun down the side of your face and brought it near your lips.  
  
"You'd rather I kill you than just be a good little girl, huh? I mean was it so bad being fucked by me? You could just learn to be grateful to have someone like me, so out of your league, give you so much value. But no, you have to try to be rebellious and brave, don't you?"   
  
"Go to hell Steve! I don't want your attention! I never did! You are just sick-"  
  
Steve took the chance to insert the tip of the gun into your mouth, restricting your ability to speak. You tried to pull the gun away with your bloody hand, but he caught it and pinned it to your side on the counter.   
  
"The audacity you have, doctor. It's impressive really, the lengths that you went through, recording me and whatnot. I still don't appreciate it though. I mean, here I was starting to think that things were getting good between us, right? I let you enjoy it once in a while, didn't I? What more did you want, slut?" He ranted, angrily.  
  
You whined against the gun. The metallic surface of it was rough against your tongue. The more you struggled the deeper he pushed the gun in, uncaring if you choked. Your neck was craned backwards in a painful position and you almost thought that he’d shoot the bullet down your throat. But he held the gun in your mouth just long enough to make your jaw sore and then he pulled it out, wiping the saliva on your shirt. 

“What does it matter? Your friends seem to approve of whatever that you are doing. You should be happy that I broke that last wall for you. Now you don’t have to go on pretending that you are a righteous and good person,” you taunted him, glaring into his eyes.

Steve clenched his jaw. He raised the gun in his hand and smacked you face with it. That hurt more than his normal slaps as the solid metal made your mouth bleed and your skin bruise. You tasted the blood in your mouth. You fell sideways into the kitchen counter and your eyes flashed at the knife that was kept near your hand. Without a thought you picked the knife up, turned around to face Steve and slashed the knife through the mid of his body.

Your eyes widened at the sight of blood pouring through the long cut, staining his white shirt in deep crimson. Steve winced, taken aback by your sudden action. You couldn’t believe that you had managed to actually physically harm the super soldier. It only happened because Steve never anticipated you doing something like that, neither had you. 

But your moment of triumph lasted only a few seconds as Steve snatched the knife out of your hand. He spun you around and bent you over the counter, pressing his bleeding front against your back. You could feel the warm liquid seep into the fabric of your shirt. The coppery aroma filled your nose.

Steve locked his right forearm around your neck. He held the knife with the same hand, making sure that the sharp edge was nicking at your jawline. You could barely move with his weight on top of you. Even the slightest movement caused the knife to dig deeper into your skin and his arm to add more pressure on your wind pipe. He buried his chin on your shoulder so that his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. His hot breath tickled you in an uncomfortable way.

“That was highly stupid,” he grunted in your ear. “I thought Clint and Coulson had warned you better. I should have had them mention all the ideas I had cooking up in my mind to punish you.”   

“Do it,” you croaked out.

“What?” He asked in a puzzled voice.

“I said do it, do whatever you want to,” you told him.

Steve raised himself off of you while his hand pushed at the back of your head, forcing your face to press up against the cold slab. His arm slithered away from your throat and you could breathe more freely. 

“You act like you are not afraid,” he said as he trailed his free hand across your behind. “But I know you are. I can sense it.” He squeezed your ass.

You did not respond, you did not feel the need to. It always ended the same way. You crying, begging and struggling until Steve overpowers you and has his way with you. This time you tried to dissociate your mind from your body.

Steve hooked his fingers in your pyjama and tore it away. He kicked your legs apart and stepped in between them. Your body tensed up a little bit when his fingers brushed through your labia. Out of nowhere he inserted a dry thumb in your anus, earning a loud wince from you.

Steve laughed at your reaction, forcing more of his thumb inside. “I think I’ll fuck your ass this time,” he teased you.

The burning sensation forcefully grounded you in your reality. Involuntarily, you shifted forward to get away from the him. Steve curled his thumb inside you in response to increase your stinging discomfort.

“I have to admit that I have never tried it before. So, I don’t know how gently I should go about it. Not that I care anyway,” he added.

“No,” you whimpered.

“No? But just a few moments ago you told me to do whatever I want,” Steve argued.

You bit your lip, you had not intended to let the protest slip out of your mind, but the aspect of Steve fucking your ass as roughly as he fucks your pussy, added by all the pent-up anger that you had induced in him, was terrifying.   
  
Steve pulled your hips towards him as he withdrew his thumb from your anus. You heard the jingle of his belt unbuckling and began wriggling to get up. He kept your struggling at bay by keeping you pinned on the counter with a hand on your back.   
  
You tried to close your legs but Steve's body prevented you from doing so. He prodded your back entrance with two thick fingers and your walls clenched around them, trying to expel the intrusion. Two fingers felt way more overwhelming than a single thumb.  
  
"You should relax if you want this to be any easier on you," he told you.  
  
You knew that you probably should relax as it'd be better for you because Steve won't be the one stopping. But you couldn't get yourself to calm down. Even after all the emotions and fight draining out of you, you still and some energy left to panic.  
  
Steve was rubbed his clothed bulge against your bare pussy while continuing to fingering your ass when suddenly his phone began ringing, making his fingers still inside you and him stepping back.  
  
"What the hell?" He cursed under his breath as he took out his phone from his trousers pocket.  
  
You let out a breath of relief as he Steve withdrew his fingers to answer the call. You quickly straightened up and turned around to see Steve talk with a serious expression on his face.  
  
"Tony? Are you sure?" He asked.  
  
Even in your unstable state you caught wind of famous billionaire's name, that had gone missing and had been presumed dead for a long time now.  
  
"I am coming," Steve said before he ended the call.  
  
Steve looked at his bloodied shirt with distress. You thought he'd say something to you about it, but he rushed out of your house without another word.   
  
You were left confused between your curiosity of knowing what the call had been about that made Steve leave in such a hurry, and the feeling of slight delight that he had left you alone. You had avoided a lot of trouble and you were grateful to whoever had called Steve for that.  
  
***

Almost two months had passed since then. Steve usually never took more than a week to come back to you. A small optimistic part of you had imagined that Steve might have actually abandoned you, whatever the call had been about was the reason. The news of Tony Stark returning to earth had become quite popular and you hoped that Steve became busy with that.

Yet a weird emptiness filled you, the peace and quiet was somehow unfamiliar and unsettling. You did not know if you should start picking back your broken pieces and putting them together again, you did not even know if you were capable of that. Steve had become such a routine part of life, awaiting him, fearing him and enduring him had become your habits. You seemed to be losing your mind dealing with the aftermath of his assault.

Steve had ruined every aspect of your life. You found your skills as a professional therapist deteriorating, you couldn’t help your patients like you could before. It would soon result in the decline in your number of patients and your income too. All your life’s work would go to waste. Maybe you should have gone to seek therapy yourself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak about it with someone else, neither could you tell anyone about it. You assumed that Coulson’s warnings were still in effect.

You chose to spend long hours in your office because, despite that it all started there, your house was too painful a reminder of your prolonged traumatising relationship with Steve. Multiple patient files lay open on your desk as you tried to go deep inside them and further away from yourself.  

The knock on your office door took you by surprise. You looked at the clock, it read 10:00 PM, way past your working hours which only meant a few or one possibility. You became still as a stone, not even your breath escaped you.

“Doctor, it’s me, your favourite patient. I know you are inside so let me in,” you heard Steve’s voice through the door.

A wavered breath left your lungs. Your hands trembled without you noticing.

“(Y/n), please I just want to talk,” he said, softly.

You pushed your chair back from your desk and considered what do. It wasn’t like a wooden door would keep him out for long and if he had to wait for long then he’d probably get angrier. Steve banged on the door with more force and that was your signal to hold off your restraints and let him in.

Steve had a soft smile on his face, contrary to the cold indifference that he used to carry in your office and even the anger filled dark eyes that you had expected. He seemed pleased to see you.

You stepped backwards as he came inside, closing the door behind him. You eyed him warily.

“Sorry for leaving so abruptly last time, without giving a reason,” he said.

You remained quiet, keeping your eyes fixed on the floor. Steve stared down at you for a moment then turned his gaze towards the rest of your office, towards the leather seat on which he used to sit as you patiently listened to his worries when times were good for you and towards the area on the floor where he had turned it all upside down for you. He walked around you to go near it.

“It has been a long time since I came here,” he said. “A weird nostalgia.”

You turned to face his broad back, his hands were stuffed in his trouser pockets.

“It has been a long time since you came to me. What do you want?”

Steve spun on his heels and looked down at you. Though his eyes weren’t as sharp and piercing as before, still you felt as if you were exposed to him, as if he was looking beyond your soul.

“This could be my last visit, doctor,” he informed you.

You furrowed your brows at him, not sure if he was playing with you or not. He smiled as he came closer to you. Your small feet couldn’t back away quick enough before he closed the distance between you too.

“ _Could be_ ,” he emphasised as he cupped you face and stroked the skin below your eye with his thumb.

“We found a way to fix all this,” he said.

“What Thanos did? How?” You asked curiously.

“I cannot explain it. It doesn’t matter. But I have hope back with me again and I figured that I should come and thank you for keeping me going all this time,” he said.

He sounded grateful, but you weren’t feeling the pleasure of helping him. You couldn’t even believe that he was actually thanking you for something that destroyed you. Steve brought his thumb down to your mouth and tugged at your lower lip.

“I feel unexpectedly attached to you,” he confessed, his tone turning a bit serious.

Steve held your hip with his other hand and pulled you closer to himself. His fingers massaged your scalp gently. You felt uncomfortable in this position even though it was not degrading or painful.

“I cannot guarantee if I’ll return alive or not. But I want you to remember me,” Steve said.

He bent down towards you face and pulled you into a sudden deep kiss. The touch of his lips and tongue were soft at first until it turned a bit rougher. Steve’s hands ran along the curves of your body, looking for a slip in your clothes to slide in.

You tried to push him away, but he slapped your hands away. Your whines were muffled into his mouth. His hands aggressively tugged at your shirt and skirt. Steve pushed you against your desk to keep your movements to a minimum. His actions contradicted the sweetness that he displayed at the start.

Steve broke the kiss and shifted his lips to smooth over your jawline.

“Steve, please,” you uttered weakly.

He pressed his forehead to yours and looked straight into your eyes. Both you were panting hotly over each other.

“I love your fight, I do. You are strong to the last bits. But I want to make the most of our supposed last time. Won’t you give in?” He whispered.

Defiance shone in your eyes. It came so naturally to you. Fighting him only felt right. You knew he liked it too no matter what he said.

“No? Fine, have it your way,” he said before he pulled himself off you completely.

Steve’s strong hands settled on your shoulders and pushed you down until you were forced to sit on your knees. You knew what came next and your stomach churned just at the thought of it.

Steve easily held you down with one hand while undoing his trousers with the other. You sealed your lips shut and turned your head away from his hardened and erect cock standing inches from you. The musky smell filled your nose as Steve brushed his length against your cheek.

“Come on, open up,” he said as he slapped it across your face.

Blood rushed into your cheeks from the humiliation. You did your best to keep your mouth shut as Steve ran the leaking tip of his cock over your plump lips. He locked his hand around your jaw and crushed it with his fingers.

“Open, (y/n). This might be the last time you get a taste of me. Savour it,” he grunted as he pressured your jaw into opening.

The moment your lips parted he pushed himself in. You were forced to open your mouth beyond its capacity as his dick filled you. You pushed at his hips to keep him from going to deep, but to no avail. Soon you were choking around his girth while he groaned above you.

Steve tangled his fingers in your hair and used them as leverage to thrust himself in and out of your mouth. You let out obscene gurgling sounds whenever he went down your throat. Your tongue involuntarily rolled around him, making his breath hitch. Tears stung your eyes and you were literally punching his thighs, but the man did not budge. They were like feather touches to him.

“You’ll thank me later for this because my dick will go in your ass after this and I haven’t brought any lube, so unless you have any in your office, get focusing on wetting my dick as much as you can,” he panted.

If you didn’t feel like puking before on his dick, you felt like it now. Your jaw grew sore, but you didn’t want him to pull out because you weren’t looking forward to what would follow.

Your heart sank when Steve reached his completion in your mouth. Steve retrieved his still hard dick from your mouth and clamped his hand around lips to keep them shut.

“Swallow like a good girl,” he ordered.

You were forced to gulp down the slimy and salty deposit on your tongue. He gave you a satisfied smile before he lifted you up on your feet. You barely got a chance to stop him from spinning you around and bending you over the desk.

Steve pressed his hand at the back of your neck, preventing you from raising yourself as he drove your skirt up your thighs and bunched them around your hips. The scrambling of your hands made the papers and pens fall on the ground, yet did nothing to help you gain any stability.

“Wait,” you cried as he tore your panties off you.

He placed his knees in between your legs to keep them sufficiently parted. You shuddered when you felt his fingers poke at your back entrance. Your plea turned into a gasp as he shoved two spit covered fingers inside you. The stinging was already pretty bad.

“Take a deep breathe, doc. Relax. This is going to happen, better make it easier on yourself,” he said as he pushed his fingers further down your anal cavity.

He curled and move them inside you like last time and it do not feel good at all. You squirmed uneasily around him, trying to move away from the uncomfortable sensation. Meanwhile, he rubbed his cock against your clit intentionally, making your pussy wet even in this horrible condition. Steve even used your slick to spread around as lube. He fingered you for a few more seconds before he replaced them with his cock.

A shiver ran down your spine at the first nudge of his cock’s head at your tight hole. His fingers were nothing to prepare you for the size of his manhood. You let out a shrill scream as he forcefully stuffed himself inside you. You clutched the edges of your desk so tightly that your knuckles turned white, your toes curled in your shoes.

Steve took in sharp breaths through his teeth, pulling you further down his cock by your hips. Once he was fully sheathed inside you, he stilled for a moment, relishing the way your walls squeezed his cock. You felt awfully full and the pain was almost splitting you.

Steve wrapped a hand around your throat to pull your body up and rested your back against his chest.

“God, this feels so good,” he groaned in your ear. “Why didn’t I do this before?”

“It hurts,” you whimpered.

“I know it does,” he said as he slipped his cock half way out. “I know it does,” he repeated, slamming back inside in one rough motion.

You screamed as Steve picked up a brutal pace and started fucking you mercilessly. You were in so much pain that you couldn’t even bring yourself to tell him to stop.

Steve’s hand on your throat snaked down to massage your breasts while he used his other hand to play with your clit. He forced shameless moans out of you even through the pain, enjoying the way you tightened around him at the right touch.

“I want you to remember me in every way, everywhere in your body,” he growled right in your ear.

But it was hard to fully focus on his words with all the different feelings running through your mind and body. It was all too much to bear. You felt a total loss of control over yourself as Steve drove you towards an unwanted orgasm.

Steve licked a long stripe from your shoulder to your neck with his tongue, adding to your sensitivity. He upped his speed at fucking your ass along with adding more pressure to your clit.

You released a half whimper half moan as you reached your climax. Once you were done, Steve slammed your body down on the desk so that he could fuck you with his full vigour. You could do nothing but take it silently until he got his satisfaction too.

Your body felt unimaginably sore by the time Steve came inside you. You felt another level of filthy with his cum dripping out of your burning and gaping asshole. He had collapsed on top of your body, waiting a few minutes to catch his breath before he lifted himself up, pulling you along with him.

He turned you around to face him. Your legs were weak and wobbly so Steve supported you to stand in front of him. He held your face with both hands and forced you too look at him.

“That was good, wasn’t it?” He asked.

You refused to answer him.

“Don’t be like that. I may or may not come back. Won’t you miss me if I don’t?”

“Just leave,” you said through gritted teeth.

“You break my heart, (y/n). Anyway, why don’t you give me a goodbye kiss before I leave, huh?” Steve asked as he pushed your lips into a pout.

You tried turning your face away but he was persistent.

“Come on,” he urged you.

You sighed with frustration. Seeing no way out of this, you leaned forward to press your lips against his. Steve made sure to make it a deep and passionate one, one that you’ll remember. He held your head against his for a few moments after the kiss was over. Then he pulled away, fixed his clothes and headed for your door.

You leaned against your desk, watching him leave as you remembered all that he said.

“Are you really leaving?” You asked him.

“Yes,” he answered. You had trouble believing him. “But if I make it back alive, I won’t forget to come back to you,” he said.

You lowered your eyes to the ground.

“And if I don’t come back, don’t ever forget me,” he said in a sour tone.

He was ingrained your mind and soul, how could you forget him. You felt a slight sting in your heart at the thought of him not coming back, not seeing him ever again.

Steve sighed as he opened the door and stepped out of the door frame. You pushed yourself away from the desk.

“Steve?” You called out to him.

He glanced at you over his shoulder, turning back around slowly.

“Yes?” He asked, curious to know what you had to say him.

“Save the world,” you said.

Steve’s eyes glowed at you as a bitter smile appeared on his face.

“I will.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it ends... Thanks to all the readers for the love and appreciation. I am so grateful :') . This went pretty well for my first multi-chapter fanfiction. 
> 
> Thanks again to everyone! Do leave comments and tell me what you think :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it! Comments are welcome :)


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